


The Slytherin Prince

by Madriddler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But it's the bad guys doing it, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are Siblings, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gender Issues, Genderfluid, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Harry Potter is a Malfoy, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Third Year, M/M, Slytherin Harry Potter, Time Skips, Tom Riddle's Diary, Young Draco Malfoy, Young Harry Potter, slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 78,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madriddler/pseuds/Madriddler
Summary: Found abandoned by the Dursleys, Harry Potter was adopted by a kind-hearted Lucius Malfoy. Scared and young, Harry instantly makes a connection with his new big brother Draco! Now a Malfoy, Harry is thrust into a world he never dreamed of before, growing up and developing weird feelings within himself towards Draco and their best friend, navigating the world of Pure-bloods with only a strange diary that talks back to him for comfort.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 311
Kudos: 1066
Collections: Harry_PotterxBlaise_Zabini_xSC





	1. The Wandering Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So I really just wanted to redo "Harry is raised by Malfoys" since to be honest I do not like the series I've written about that. This one goes into a completely different direction, and I hope that you all enjoy.

The Slytherin Prince

Chapter 1

The Wandering Boy

Harry Potter was four years old when it happened. He was a sweet child, terribly small for his age with rather large eyes that he constantly squinted as the world around him was hazy. His hair was raven black and always messy, and his limbs short and somewhat frail from malnutrition. Not that Harry knew. He only had an idea that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were not treating him well, but that was only because of how good they are to his cousin Dudley, who at the same age as Harry have already shown signs of pudge around his stomach and arms.

Today was a rather windy and cold day. It was around two in the afternoon and Harry was lost. He didn’t know he was lost, he though his family was playing a game of hide and seek that he didn’t know about. He was in London, which was a huge place, and wandered around. The fact to him that this was all a game was the only thing keeping young Harry from crying as he explored the blurry surroundings. The city was so big to the four-year-old, and his legs were getting tired very quickly. _I want to find them so I can eat,_ he thought to himself. He turned a corner only to see more buildings and people he did not know. Harry kept walking, his eyes looking everywhere at the blurry scenery, squinting so they could focus. He was completely lost, turning corners whenever he could, running through the alleyways, and walking through the open streets.

Tears soon came and Harry cried as he walked around. Grown-ups looked at him weirdly but no one stopped to help him or tried to direct him to a police officer. Not that Harry really noticed their looks, his blurry eyes, and tears blocking everything so that he barely saw shapes in front of him.

Harry walked and the shapes of the buildings morphed together, becoming a blurry liquid of white and beige before changing as he ran down one final alleyway, and everything became smaller. At least smaller than the huge buildings Harry saw previously. And they were different colors too! Harry could see blobs of reds and blues and oranges and purples and lilacs all mixed together, pushing against one another as they moved down the street, at the end of which was something very large and very, very white.

Harry hiccupped and wiped his tears away. The street was very crowded with adults and Harry spun around slowly, seeing that everyone was dressed in funny clothes. Nobody was wearing shirts and pants or suits or anything normal. Instead, they had what looked like cloaks in funny colors and people were even wearing funny hats slouched one way or another. Harry gave a little giggle at their clothes, squinting to see them clearly. They were giving him odd looks because he kept squinting at them. He ignored them and walked down the street; his fear momentarily forgotten as he looked around this strange new place.

Harry wasn’t particularly paying attention to where he was going as he looked around.

Just like everyone else, the people on the street only gave Harry a look before moving on. Harry still felt terribly sad not knowing where the Dursleys were, however, it was worth it to the young boy. He was in someplace new and colorful! And even though his stomach growled angrily, he didn’t eat at all today, Harry could ignore it because of the pretty hazy colors. That was until, when he reached the end of the street, he walked straight into a man and fell to the ground.

Tears welled up and he cried again. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he said quickly, throwing his arms over his head and balled up instinctively. He heard an annoyed huffed and the man in front of him knelt down.

“Cease your crying,” the man said shortly. Harry jumped and hiccupped, forcing himself to stop. He wiped his eyes harshly until they hurt and blinked several times at the man, squinting to see him clearly.

The man had long platinum hair along with silver eyes and a sharp nose. His mouth was frowning as he examined Harry. He looked tall, taller than other adults, and he was dressed in a black cloak and had a walking cane. He sneered at Harry’s squinting, “Stop your squinting you insolent child.”

“I’m sorry!” Harry squeaked again, jumping once more. He moved back and stopped squinting, the man turning blurry again. “But I need to squint to see.”

“Well obviously you need glasses, boy,” the man said in a short voice. “Where are your parents?”

Harry felt very awkward. He compacted into himself and said in a small voice, “They’re dead.”

“Excuse me?”

Harry flinched and glanced up at the man. “They’re dead,” he said a little louder.

“Then who do you live with?” the man asked, standing tall to look around. “Who here is incompetent enough to leave their child in the middle of Diagon Alley?”

Harry sniffled, “Is that where we are?” he asked.

“Obviously, child,” he said. “Where else would we be? You did not answer my question as well.”

“I—I live with my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia,” Harry stuttered. “They say I’m special, so I have to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs—but it’s fine! There’s plenty of room and the spiders don’t bite much! Please don’t tell!”

The man made an annoyed huffed. “What is your name, boy?” he asked.

“Harry Potter.”

The man froze. He stared at Harry and for a moment Harry thought that he would hurt him like Uncle Vernon does when he does something bad. The boy looked down at his shoes and waited for the man to make up his mind. He wouldn’t blame the man honestly. Harry looked bad, really bad. His clothes were old and stinky, he didn’t have a bath since last Friday, and he kept squinting at people! Finally, the man sighed, and Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and looked up to see the man’s blurry image. He knew he was looking down at him because he could see the face facing him. “Come along then Harry,” he said. “I might as well get you glasses and a meal before deciding what to do with you.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Harry said softly.

The man led Harry down the street. Harry looked up and hesitated before reaching up and grabbing his hand, holding on tightly as though he was afraid that the man would let go of him. The two walked and Harry looked around feeling much safer now that he found an adult. For a second he thought he saw something floating but shrugged as the man stopped and turned to a store that had a giant pair of glasses. They walked in.

Harry squinted and looked around. The walls were filled with glasses frames of every shape and size and color imaginable. There were a few waiting chairs along with a giant chair in the center that looked very intimidating to Harry. In the back was a counter with a very old cash register. They only took a couple steps inside when Harry let out a little scream. There was a box that flew from the left wall and opened, and a pair of glasses floated out and settled into the wall. “It flew!”

“Of course it flew, child,” the man sneered. “Have you never saw magic before?”

“Magic doesn’t exist,” Harry said a little robotically, “Uncle Vernon told me that over and over again.”

“I’m guessing he’s a muggle, to think you were living with disgusting muggles—bah,” the man shook his head and Harry felt sacredly sad. He did something that the man disapproved of, he just knew it.

“I’m sorry, please don’t leave me,” Harry said. “I no see my family since morning.”

“It is ‘I did not see my family since this morning,’ Harry, and no. We are here for glasses, not for child abandonment,” the man said. He tapped his cane twice on the floor.

A woman walked into the storefront from a door in the back. “Hello,” she said in a friendly tone. “Are you here for new glasses?”

“Yes, the boy here,” the man said, pushing Harry forward.

The woman nodded and bent down. Harry saw that she had a very pretty face and was wearing purple robes with stars and she had glasses that had stars that moved in the frame. He stared at it. “Hello, and what is your name?” she asked.

“Harry,” Harry said.

“Well Harry, why don’t you go sit in that big comfy chair over there, and I will talk with your father for a moment,” she smiled and stood up. “Mr. …”

“Malfoy,” the man named Mr. Malfoy said.

“Right, Mr. Malfoy,” the woman nodded. “I’m Doctor Smith. Does your son have any previous prescriptions or is this his first pair?”

“This is his first,” Mr. Malfoy said. The woman nodded and pulled out a weird stick. She gave it a wave and Harry gasped as things started to move around. A great big machine whirled towards the big chair that Harry sat on.

Doctor Smith turned to Harry and smiled, “Just relax dear, we are just going to take a picture of your eyes is all first, okay?” Harry nodded and did his best to relax. The big machine floated towards Harry and a chinrest sized up to him. The machine pressed against his face, slightly pinching his nose. Harry looked into it and saw a very fuzzy picture. “Tell me when the picture is clear Harry,” Doctor Smith said. Harry nodded and focused on the fuzzy picture. He watched as it focused slowly until it became perfectly clear! It was a red house against green hills with a blue sky and white clouds. “I can see it!” Harry said.

“Good. Keep staring at it. Keep your eyes nice and big,” the doctor ordered. Harry followed and there was a bright flash that lasted for only a second. Harry blinked rapidly as the machine moved away from him, a large photo developing from it that the doctor took. She examined it for a few moments, nodding as she turned to Mr. Malfoy. “At his age, stuff like this is usually hereditary, so it is nothing to worry about. Are there any others in your family who wear glasses?”

“My father,” Mr. Malfoy said, although Harry knew that that did not apply to him. He wondered who in his family had glasses.

The doctor wrote something down, nodding. “Very well,” she said and turned to Harry. She took out her strange stick again and gave it a wave. A second old black machine with many lens floated to Harry and fitted itself against his face. The chair spun around, and he faced the wall with the counter where there was a poster with letters. The Doctor tapped the machine once more and told Harry, “Say stop when you can see the first three lines of letters.” The lens started fitting themselves. Going in front of Harry for a second, as though waiting for him to confirm them. Harry looked ahead at the white blurb in front of him. Sometimes the lenses made it less blurry and he could see some black, but he still couldn’t make it out. He continued staring as the lens fixed themselves until he said, “Stop!” excitedly, seeing the letters clearly.

“Good job Harry, now can you please read them for me,” the doctor said.

Harry stopped, his cheeks blushing. He looked at the letters, but his brain couldn’t decode them. He knew his alphabet, he was four after all, but he didn’t really was able to connect his alphabet to the letters in front of him. “Harry?” the doctor said patiently. “Can you please tell me the letters.”

“I can’t read,” Harry said shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“How old is your son, again?”

“Harry is only four,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Ah—my bad,” the woman said. She waved her strange stick and the letters changed to shapes! Harry knew his shapes. “Do you know your shapes, Harry?” she asked.

“Of course! There are a square and circle on the first line! A uh triangle, square, circle, circle, square on the second and triangle, triangle, square, square, rectangle, circle on the third!” Harry said, proud of himself of remembering his shapes.

“Very good Harry!” Doctor Smith said. “Now, you’re going to tell me when the bottom three, that’s the rest of the chart, is clear to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said in his small voice. Once more the lens started fixing themselves, the whole chart becoming blurry once more for a moment before dancing between stages of clearness and blurriness. The lens moved faster now, not even giving Harry a chance to tell them to stop. It was as though they were guessing which combination will let Harry see, as though thinking by themselves. They stopped suddenly and Harry gave a gasp as he could see clearly. “Can you see them?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Harry said and told the doctor the shapes on the chart. She wrote more stuff down on her notepad and the machine went away. Blurriness returned to Harry and he frowned. The doctor helped Harry off the chair and escorted him to the counter with the old cash register. She sat behind it while Harry sat in front of it, Mr. Malfoy joining them. There was a mirror near them aimed at Harry. The woman waved her stick and several glasses flew towards them, landing in front of them. “Now these are just for trying on Harry,” she said. “I want you to try them out and pick a frame that you like a lot, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. He looked at the glasses in front of him and bit his lip. “I can try them on?” he asked.

“Of course,” the woman nodded.

Harry took a breath and looked at the display in front of them. They were all rather colorful with bold reds and blues and even a green pair. Harry didn’t like any of them. They were too attention-drawing. He bit his lip and looked at the doctor. “Do you have other colors?” he asked.

“What do you prefer?”

“Black.”

The woman chuckled and waved her stick again. Black framed glasses made their way towards them. Harry tried them on one by one, looking at himself in the mirror as though he was trying to make up his mind. Some were too thick while others were too large or too small. In the end, Harry settled on a pair of round frames that were not too big or too small. He showed her the glasses and the doctor smiled. “I will be right back,” she said and left to the back.

“Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said immediately when she was gone. “I would like to know some things. One of them being why it is you cannot read.”

“I’m four,” Harry answered simply.

“Even then you should know some letters,” Mr. Malfoy argued. “Besides that, every time we talked you flinched several times. And you sleep in a cupboard.”

“Is that wrong?” Harry asked sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Mr. Malfoy said shortly. “You are completely sure that you do not know anything about magic?”

“Uncle Vernon told me it doesn’t exist,” Harry said. “I don’t know how it happened, but Dudley had this toy I really wanted so it flew to me! Uncle Vernon got really angry at me for that and locked me in the cupboard. He forgot to feed me breakfast and lunch.”

“When was this?”

“Last night after dinner,” Harry answered. Mr. Malfoy frowned. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry for saying sorry!” Harry said quickly.

Mr. Malfoy gave a huff and shook his head. “Of all the days to go deal with that bloody contract in Gringotts it had to be today,” he muttered to himself. “Harry, you are not in trouble, however after lunch, I would like to speak to you with my wife, Narcissa. You are clearly not being taken care of properly.”

“I’m not?” Harry questioned.

“No! Of course not, but we will talk about this later, the doctor is coming back,” Mr. Malfoy said. Harry looked up to see the blurry woman walking back, holding a small black leather case.

“Here you are young Harry,” she said cheerfully. “Open it up, there we go.” She placed the case in front of Harry who opened it gently. It was his glasses. He reached slowly and opened the glasses, slipping them on his head.

“Ahh!” Harry said, looking around. He could see! Everything looked so clear to him. A giant grin appeared on his face. He looked at Mr. Malfoy and said, “You have silver eyes!”

“Yes, I do,” Mr. Malfoy said. He turned to the woman, “How much?”

“Twenty Galleons for the exam and glasses,” she said. “Along with creating a profile for Harry.”

“Send me a copy of it at my manor,” Mr. Malfoy said. He pulled out twenty gold coins and stood up. “Harry.”

Harry jumped and looked at the lady. “Thank you very much,” he said politely. He always remembered his manners.

She smiled, “It was a pleasure,” she said. “Have a good day Harry, Mr. Malfoy.”

“If you do not mind, I wish to use your fireplace,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“It’s in the back, just make sure to not get ash on my floor please,” the doctor said as he bent to pick up a magazine. Mr. Malfoy nodded and started to walk, Harry running after him.

Harry didn’t know why they needed a fireplace; it was already kind of hot outside. He was surprised to see how big the fireplace is. The opening was huge enough to have Mr. Malfoy stand in it. “Harry, stand close to me,” Mr. Malfoy said, pulling Harry into the fireplace. For a moment Harry panicked that the fire would turn on instantly and they would cook, but that went away quickly. Mr. Malfoy has been nothing but kind to him. Why would he cook Harry now? And with him in the fireplace too! Harry went to stand with Mr. Malfoy in the fireplace and looked around curiously. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Keep your mouth shut,” Mr. Malfoy said, “you do not want to inhale any soot.” He threw down something and green flames flared up as he shouted, “Malfoy Manor!” The fire did not burn and Harry felt like he was falling and spinning, as the doctor’s office disappeared in a flash. There were flashes of other rooms that appeared and were gone in a second. Harry closed his eyes and grimaced for what felt like minutes before their feet felt the solid ground and Mr. Malfoy pulled him out. Harry opened his eyes hesitantly before blinking them open.

They were somewhere else!

It was a large room that was filled with the fanciest things Harry has ever seen. The walls were light blue with gold trim. Large windows broke the walls, allowing sunlight to fill the room, filtering through light blue curtains that gave the light that pushed through it a blue hue. There were pictures of many strange things: centaurs running in a forest, men, and women in weird clothing making things fly and portraits who seemed to move! Harry stopped and stared at one painting in particular. It was of an older man who looked like Mr. Malfoy from his sharp nose to his platinum blonde hair. The man in the painting stared back at Harry. His face scowled and Harry jumped when the man in the painting shouted, “What are you looking at boy? Go away!”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Harry screamed, running away. “The painting talked! The painting scary!”

Mr. Malfoy sighed and shook his head, “Useless muggles—move along Harry, I rather you eat now instead of freaking out about the world.”

Harry made a worrying sound and nodded. He glanced back at the scary painting of the scary man and rushed to follow Mr. Malfoy who did not slow down or wait for Harry as he walked out of the room.

They went into a long hallway filled with more paintings and windows, the upper walls painted the same light blue with a gold trimming and wooden lower half. Harry kept his eyes forward as he followed Mr. Malfoy. They walked towards the end of the hallway before Mr. Malfoy stopped in front of a door and opened it. “We will be eating in the smaller dining room,” he said and walked in. Harry followed.

It was a small room that was still bigger than the Dursley’s kitchen. The table in the center was big enough to seat eight people and was already prepared with empty plates and glasses. The chairs looked very fancy in Harry’s mind, a dark smooth wood that Harry was almost scared to touch or sit in, but his stomach’s growling dashed any fear and Harry moved to sit in a chair.

Mr. Malfoy sat at the head of the table and tapped his walking stick three times against the floor. Food magically appeared and Harry gasped. “This looks good!” he smiled, “Did your wife make all this?”

“Narcissa does not know how to cook,” Mr. Malfoy said, “our servants made them.” He snapped his fingers and Harry jumped once more, he noticed that today was a very jumpy day, as a creature appeared.

The creature was Harry’s height with very shriveled skin and large tennis ball eyes and was wearing only a potato sack with an _M_ on it. Its ears and nose were very long and when it bent down, its nose pressed against the floor. “How can Dobby be serving Master Malfoy?” the creature asked.

“Tell my wife to come into the smaller dining room, we have a guest,” Mr. Malfoy ordered.

The creature bowed again and disappeared with a cracking noise. Harry stared at the place where the creature was and looked up at Mr. Malfoy.

“House-elves,” Mr. Malfoy said. “They are our servants. They cook and clean for us. It is house-elves who made our meal.”

“Oh,” Harry said shortly. He didn’t know how to feel about that. He looked at his plate and started eating quickly, scared that as soon as it appeared, the food would disappear. It was all delicious and Harry kept eating and eating, eating the most that he ever has. Mr. Malfoy watched him with a disapproving look and Harry stopped. “Sorry,” he said and pushed the plate away.

“Do you have no manners whatsoever, Mr. Potter?” Mr. Malfoy asked.

“But the food would disappear—”

“No it will not,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Oh.” Harry’s cheeks went pink. He looked in front of him and his stomach rumbled angrily. “Do you have any milk or apple juice?”

Mr. Malfoy snapped his fingers and a glass appeared. Harry took it hesitantly and took a sip, his eyes widening at the taste of milk, and quickly gulped the glass down. It refilled itself and Harry drank again.

Harry kept eating and drinking as though it was his final meal when the door opened, and a woman walked in. She was tall and very slender with black hair kept in a bun. She had a rather strict look about her as she looked from her husband to Harry. Harry thought she would yell at him and immediately stopped eating.

“Lucius, who is our guest?” she asked.

“This, Narcissa, is Harry Potter,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Harry Potter!” Mrs. Malfoy gasped. She clutched her chest tightly and looked as though she was about to faint. She looked between her husband and the boy, her eyes going wild between disbelief and worry. Harry did not like the look and started to curl into himself again, the food completely forgotten. Mrs. Malfoy continued to stare at Harry, as though figuring out what to do with him. She looked at Harry for such a long time Harry thought that she was trying to drill holes into him. He sniffled and started to cry silently, burying his head into his arms. The Malfoy matriarch say this and looked at Lucius, “Where was he?” she asked simply.

“Wandering around London lost and blind, I had to get the boy glasses just so he would stop squinting at me,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It seems that Mr. Potter was living with Muggles, and they exactly were not giving him the best of care. He knows nothing about magic and who he is.”

“Really?” Mrs. Malfoy said, frowning. She looked at Harry once more. “And what are we going to do with him? You are not seriously thinking of sending him back to these muggles will you?”

“Send him back to live in a cupboard? Certainly not,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Why would I waste such an opportunity to not only advance ourselves but to show at how kind we are. No, I think we shall adopt him.”


	2. Adoption

Chapter 2

Adoption

“Adopt him? Are you mad? What about the Dark Lord—what about the others?” Mrs. Malfoy said frantically. Harry didn’t know what they were talking about. He just stayed crumbled in the chair.

“The Dark Lord is dead and if he ever returns, then he will not see an enemy but a friend,” Mr. Malfoy said soothingly. “Think of it, would you rather we raise the boy ourselves on our morals, or have him corrupted by ignorance and muggles?”

Mrs. Malfoy looked pensive for a moment. She regarded Harry for a moment before looking at her husband. “It would be better,” she said, “and it is foolish that the boy lives with muggles who treat him unkindly. A cupboard you say?”

“Indeed, and this was his first meal of the day,” Mr. Malfoy nodded, “and from the look of him he looks as though he barely eats at all.”

“It would show that you had no connection to the Dark Lord, if you take it upon ourselves to raise him,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded. “But what of his godfather?”

“Black? He will be no harm,” Mr. Malfoy shrugged. “The dog is caged, though the rat who sent him there is still unknown.”

“I meant the other one,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “If he figures out—”

“Then we will tell him the truth Narcissa, you are worrying far too much for this,” Mr. Malfoy said soothingly. “Besides, young Harry is still here.”

The two adults looked at Harry who hadn’t moved a muscle. He looked up slowly, his eyes puffy from crying. “Do I have to go home now?” he asked in a soft, quiet voice.

“To the muggles? No,” Mr. Malfoy said. “In fact Harry, we would rather that you never go there again. In fact, you never really were supposed to go there in the first place.”

Harry snuffled. “Mug-gle? What’s that?”

“A person with no magic,” Mrs. Malfoy said simply. “But Lucius this is still insane!”

“Is it? How so?” Mr. Malfoy hummed. “To have Harry Potter as a son?”

“Yes! Don’t you know the consequences—the media circus that this will cause?” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“That is precisely what I am hoping for,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I told you, this situation is a chance to show our kindness, and give the boy a proper upbringing. Besides, with the boy in hand, we might have a chance of doing the same with your cousin, though loathsome he is.”

Mrs. Malfoy frowned but shook her head. “Only if the boy agrees,” she said.

The two turned to Harry who looked at them cautiously. “Well, Harry?” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Huh?” Harry was lost.

“Your muggle family has abandoned you it sadly seems,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “This was not a game they played leaving you in the city. What they did to you was not normal. It isn’t how you are supposed to be raised, not at all.”

“It’s not?” Harry asked.

“No Harry, you are supposed to have a proper bedroom for one, not just a cupboard,” Mr. Malfoy took over, talking in a business-like tone. “You are supposed to have a proper bed, eat proper meals, not table scrapes, and look much more full and stronger than you do now. And you certainly should have gotten a pair of glasses long before today. These muggle relatives of yours did not take care of you, nor ever cared of you if I am, to be honest. But here, you will be taken care of like our second son.”

“Second son?” Harry asked, only really registering that part.

“Yes, we have a son your age,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded. “His name is Draco, he is four like yourself, and currently is at the end of a tutoring session,” she said, looking at a nearby clock.

“I get to have a brother,” Harry said softly. “Will he be nice to me? Will he not chase me and punch me when he gets mad? Dudley does that.”

“If he ever punches you he will be punished,” Mr. Malfoy said, “the same way as any child who disobeys gets punished.”

Harry frowned at the word. “What do you mean when you say punish?” he asked softly.

“Time outs, spankings, but I would never take away your food,” Mr. Malfoy said. Harry nodded at that. He slowly uncurled himself and sat on the chair, looking forward blankly.

“Will I have toys?” he asked.

“Of course, you’ll have everything you need and want,” Mr. Malfoy said. “So what do you say?”

Harry looked at the food. If he said yes, then he would never see the Dursleys again! He can be surrounded by _magic_ and have these glasses which Mr. Malfoy provided for him. A soft smile spread across Harry’s face. He looked up at both adults and nodded, “Okay,” he said. “I want you to do it.”

“Excellent. I’ll start the official paperwork later this evening, but for now, we shall find you a room to stay in,” Mr. Malfoy said. “As well as introduce you to Draco.” He stood up and Harry stood up a moment later. “Draco will be in the back patio, it is a rather pleasant day outside,” Mr. Malfoy mused. “Come along Harry.”

The two adults left the room with Harry running after them. They exited into another hallway that led to a huge sunroom with windows for walls. Harry did not have time to look around properly, however, as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy led to two doors that opened when they got near.

The patio was shaded with a walkway towards an expansive garden to the left and to what looked like a lake to the right. Harry stopped to just marvel at the size of the estate! It looked like they had so much LAND! He turned and suddenly went shy when he saw a boy his age. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy walked up to him, the middle-aged man he was with standing up to meet them. “He had an excellent session today,” the man said, glancing at Draco. “We worked on our letters and everything. I will see you on Monday Draco.”

“One thing,” Mr. Malfoy said, “you will have an additional student starting when you return.” He stepped to the side so Harry came in full view. “This is Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said. “We will talk more about his education in private.”

The man nodded and looked at Harry. “Hello there, Harry, my name is Gordon Willow. I’m your new teacher, I’m going to teach you letters, shapes, numbers, colors, and everything you need to know about your accidental magic.”

“He is a very effective private tutor,” Mr. Malfoy said with pride. “He works with Draco every weekday afternoon.” Mr. Willow smiled and held out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry looked at it hesitantly and shook it. Mr. Willow gave Harry a final smile before standing up and nodding to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. “Have a good weekend,” he said, and the patio, walking down to the garden and around the house. The four were left together and for the first time, Harry looked at Draco Malfoy properly.

He was a little taller than Harry and had platinum blonde hair. He looked healthier than Harry, his face having a little baby chub and his skin looking soft. His eyes were big and silver and his nose was soft. He looked at Harry curiously. He walked up to him without any hesitation and asked loudly, “Who are you?”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said.

“Why are you here? This is my house. Are you my new toy?” He looked up at his father.

“Draco!” Mrs. Malfoy said sharply.

“This is Harry Potter,” Mr. Malfoy said. “He will be living here from now on as your brother.”

Draco’s eyes grew and a huge smile developed on his face. “Really?” he asked.

“Indeed,” Mr. Malfoy nodded. “Draco, show Harry to his new room, will you? It will be the bedroom right across of yours.”

“Yes Father,” Draco said. Mr. Malfoy nodded then looked at Harry. “Go with Draco, Harry. I will see you at dinner.” And he left without another word. Mrs. Malfoy talked about writing a letter to her friend and before Harry knew it, it was just him and Draco.

Harry felt very scared and shy all of a sudden. He looked down at his feet and did not move, holding his arms to his body. “Hey.” Draco said, “Hey! When is your birthday? Are you really Harry Potter?”

“Ohh I am,” Harry said uncertainly, “and um July 31st.” He suddenly felt a hand on his head and Draco pushed his hair up, revealing an ugly scar in the shape of a lightning bolt that his hair hid.

“Woah,” Draco whispered. “I got Harry Potter as a younger brother!”

“Umm, why did you know about that?” Harry asked.

“Everyone does,” Draco said as though it was very obvious. Harry frowned, he looked up at his new older brother.

“But why?” He asked.

“You don’t know? Really?” Draco asked. “Where were you living? Under a rock?”

“No with my aunt and uncle,” Harry said a little heatedly. “They were umm your dad called them mug-gles.”

“Muggles! You were living with muggles!” Draco said, giving Harry a childish sneer. Harry flinched and stepped back. Draco stopped and stared at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry!” Harry said.

Draco huffed and crossed his arms. “Don’t say sorry! You don’t need to. You were living with muggles.” He turned and said, “Follow me! Your older brother! I’ll tell you stuff in my room.”

Harry nodded and followed Draco, staying close to the young boy. They went back into the sunroom and walk through it into the hallway and Draco immediately turned into a hidden stairway. The two ran up the stairs and into another hallway this one with pictures of snowy scenery. There were only three doors in this hallway and Draco led Harry to the first door they were near, opening it and letting Harry go first into this. “This is your big brother’s room,” Draco said smugly.

Harry looked around amazed. The bedroom was _huge!_ His eyes first fell on the bed. It looked like it could fit five Harrys and still be cozy. The bed had emerald covers and the pillows looked so comfortable that Harry just wanted to fall in them. Toys were scattered everywhere along with drawings that were hanging on the walls. There was a giant toy chest along with a desk and bookshelf that was filled with more toys. Pictures of people flying on brooms filled the room and the people flew from one picture to the next as they chased after a gold ball that flew in the air as well. Harry was at a loss of words as he looked around. Draco dragged him deeper inside and towards a picture. “First thing first, look at this picture,” Draco said. “I drew it last week!”

It was a childish picture of four kids. One had pale skin and yellow hair which Harry guessed was Draco, another was a boy with brown skin and black hair, a third was a boy with pale hair and black hair and the fourth was a pale girl with black hair. Draco pointed at the people one by one and said, “This is me, my best friend Blaise, Theo, and Pansy. Theo and Pansy are alright, but Blaise is the best.”

Harry nodded and repeated, pointing at the picture. “Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Pansy. Blaise is the best and Theo and Pansy are alright.”

“That’s it!” Draco nodded. “You listen to me and you’ll do good! Now! Look at this.” He moved to another picture. This one had a man in black robes with no face standing over a crude drawing of what Harry assumed was a baby’s cradle with a baby in it. The baby had a lightning scar just like Harry.

“What’s this?” Harry asked.

“This is you defeating You-Know-Who!” Draco said. “I can’t say his name.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“I’m not allowed and it’s hard to pronow—pronoun—pro—it’s hard to say,” Draco said irritated.

“Oh, okay,” Harry nodded. “Is that baby me?” he asked.

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “You-Know-Who came to your home. Your mother and father died because of him—but he could not kill you! He tried but whoosh he died, and you lived! That’s why you have that scar on your head,” he pointed to Harry’s forehead. “You’re the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry felt something odd inside him. A heaviness he couldn’t explain or even name. He fell down, hugging his knees as he stared up at the picture. Thankfully, it did not move like the others he saw. He was frowning heavily. “My aunt and uncle didn’t tell me this,” he said. “They said that my mum and dad died in a car crash.”

“Wrong! That’s wrong! This is what happened!” Draco said, pointing to the picture. “I should know, my parents told me the story about it every day!”

“I was a bedtime story?” Harry gasped. Draco nodded.

“That’s why you’re a big deal,” Draco said, “and that’s why it is very important that I am your big brother,” he said, shaking slightly as he smirked.

“You never told me your birthday! You could be lying,” Harry jumped up accusingly.

“No! I’m older! My birthday is June 5th,” Draco said.

“That’s only… that’s only…” Harry paused and looked at his fingers, counting them. “June is before July,” he said slowly.

“A month! I am a full month older than you,” Draco said, “That means I am your big brother Harry, you listen to me!”

Harry crossed his arms. He looked at Draco for a moment, thinking very hard. Draco saw this and looked around the room before running off, getting a stuffed dragon and putting it in Harry’s arms before running to get another, along with a stuffed snake toy that made funny noises when squeezed. “See? You listen to me and I’ll be the good brother who gives you all the toys you want,” Draco said.

Harry just looked at the toys in his arms then up at Draco. “Can we play?” he asked softly, glancing at the picture of him and You-Know-Who.

Yes!” Draco said, grinning. He led Harry to the toybox and told Harry he could pick any toys he wanted to play with. Harry dug around and found a funny stick like the one the doctor had. He waved it around and gave a gasp when sparks and bubbles came out. Draco called it a toy wand and taught Harry how to “duel” with it, getting one of his own. The boys laughed and dueled, sending sparks and bubbles that tickled each other if they touched.

Draco spent the afternoon showing Harry all of his favorite toys. Harry had fun especially with the toy wand and toy broomstick which hovered a full foot over the floor! They played, making up rules as they went, and before either boy knew it, it was time for dinner. Draco led Harry into the dining room saying, “I’m here with my younger brother Harry!” as they entered. He sat next to Harry.

“Well, we’re happy the two of you gotten along swimmingly,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Harry, your papers should be in order by the end of next week, there will be some things that you will help with, mostly input and making sure that you understand about what is happening.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Your last name, for instance,” Mr. Malfoy said. “You will legally be our son, however, if you want you can keep your name the same.”

“Oh,” Harry said. He nodded though he didn’t really understand. Draco jumped up and said, “Harry and I played today! I already taught him a lot of things like You-Know-Who, my best friend Blaise, and how to duel with my toy wands! _And_ I let him fly around on my broomstick!”

“That’s very good, Draco,” Mrs. Malfoy said. Draco beamed and looked at Harry, who smiled because Draco was smiling. There was no further talk about the adoption or any work papers. Instead, Draco got Harry into a heated talk about his toys and how Harry is allowed to take one toy with him when he goes to bed that night.

After dinner, both boys were sent to take a bath before bed. Harry thought that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy would bathe them, but instead, as they walked into the bathroom, a house-elf was waiting there. Harry felt immediately concerned and shy that the creature was going to give him the bath. He looked at Draco and said, “Uh, you can take your bath first if you want.”

“No, I only get a bath friend when Blaise or Theo are over and it’s so much more fun than alone,” Draco said stubbornly. “I have special toys that are just for the bath too! Look!” He pointed to the bathtub which was already filled with bubbles of different colors and many, many toys. Harry wanted to play with them, but he looked at the house-elf.

“But it’s weird,” he whispered. “The uhm house-elf is going to see my butt!”

“So?”

“My butt!”

Draco snickered. “Butt.” He shook his head, “Harry! It’s not like he’s going to do all of it. He’s just, you know, there to help when needed.”

“He is?” Harry asked.

“That’s what mother told me,” Draco nodded. “Come on!” He started taking off his clothes and Harry turned around. He waited until he heard Draco going into the tub before glancing back. Draco did look like he was having fun with the toys… Harry looked at the house-elf and said, “Turn around please?”

The house-elf jumped and nodded. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Draco was right. Harry did have fun in the bath and the toys were super cool! They made music and sent more bubbles in the air that made funny noises when popped! Harry was having so much fun that he barely noticed when he was being cleaned.

Both boys walked out wrapped in fluffy towels and Draco picked out a pair of pajamas for Harry to wear to bed. Once dressed Harry looked through Draco’s chest before picking the snake that made funny noises.

Draco nodded, “Good choice,” he said. “Come on.” He opened the door for Harry and led him to the room directly across Draco’s. It was an exact mirror of Draco’s room, having the same furniture but none of the personal taste. There were no toys in the room at all, no pictures, and definitely no drawings. Instead, there was a lamp that Draco turned on and Harry gasped.

The walls were illuminated with many stars that glittered and shined against the walls, twinkling happily as they moved around. “It’s the same nightlamp like mine—not that I need it, I’m a big brother,” Draco said.

“Okay,” Harry laughed. “Um, goodnight Draco.”

“Goodnight Harry,” Draco said. The two stood for a moment, not sure what to do. Draco left after a while and Harry went to the bed.

It was huge and so comfy. He couldn’t sleep now! The bed was just too perfect! Under the covers, Harry smiled and gave soft laughs as he rolled around with the toy, loving the seemingly endless bed. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy came in to say goodnight to him, but even when they left Harry continued to roll around until exhaustion took him and for the first time in his memory, Harry had a relaxing peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hee hee.... butt. But now Harry has a big brother! I wonder how this will play out as time goes on...


	3. Harry's Lessons

Chapter 3

Harry’s Lessons

Harry woke up feeling extremely well-rested. For a moment he expected to hear yelling, the stomping of Dudley’s feet, and the entirety of yesterday just being a very long and elaborate dream. However, as he opened his eyes, he saw that he wasn’t in the cupboard in the Dursley’s home. No, he was in his room! And there was the snake he took from Draco lying next to him! He hugged the toy and quickly put on his glasses before running out of his room and into Draco’s. The blond was still sleeping when Harry jumped on his bed.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Harry cheered.

“No don’t wanna, go away elf,” Draco muttered sleepily. Harry got really close to Draco’s face, having no sense of personal space, and said excitedly, “Wake up Draco!”

Draco woke with a jolt, his eyes popping open, and surprise turned into anger. “Harry! What are you doing?”

“You’re my brother,” Harry giggled. “You’re my brother and I’m never going to leave!” Harry hugged Draco and rolled around. “No more chores! No more cupboard! No more Dursleys!”

“Huh what? What are you talking about?” Draco asked, pushing Harry off so he could sit up. Realized what he said, a blush appeared on Harry’s face.

“Uh before Mr. Malfoy found me, the mug-gles had me sleeping in a cupboard,” Harry admitted.

“NO!” Draco screamed. “NO! My brother does not live there! My brother lives here and sleeps across my room! Does Father know?”

Harry nodded. Draco huffed, suddenly angry. Harry worried, and said, “But I’ll never go back now! I’ll never see the mug-gles again.”

“That’s good but Harry, it’s muggles—one word.”

“Mug-gles.”

“Muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“There we go!” Draco nodded, any seriousness or problems quickly forgotten as the four-year-olds focus on more pressing matters. “I’m your big brother and I won’t let you say words wrong.”

“And I wouldn’t let either of you speak without using proper grammar,” Mr. Malfoy said, walking into the room. “It is nice to see that the two of you are getting along. The house-elves were petrified when they could not find you in bed, Harry.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said. Mr. Malfoy sighed and shook his head.

“That is fine, however from now on I believe it will benefit everyone if you start calling me father. After all, Narcissa and I are now your adoptive parents.”

Oh! Sorry,” Harry said. “I’m sorry father.” The word felt strange to him. Too formal and long. “Um, can I call you dad for now instead?”

“If it makes your transition easier, then yes,” Mr. Malfoy nodded. “Now get dressed both of you. Draco, you will let your brother borrow your clothes until we can get him clothing that properly fits. Hopefully, with some care, you’ll grow taller rather quickly, Harry.”

Harry nodded and Mr. Malfoy left. Draco got out of the bed and turned to Harry. “Don’t move!” he ordered. “I’ll find your clothes.”

“Is this a big brother thing?” Harry asked.

“Uh, yes,” Draco nodded. Harry shrugged and just stayed in bed while Draco rushed to his dressers and wardrobes, pulling out drawers and examining clothes with the most serious expression he could muster. Mostly he picked his favorite colors, green and silver, giving them to Harry. “Have you heard of Hogwarts?” he asked.

“No.”

“It’s the wizarding school that we’re going to go to when we’re eleven,” Draco said in a matter-of-fact tone. “All you need to know right now is that we are going to be in Slytherin! You hear that? I practiced all last week saying the word rightly, you say it.”

Harry nodded and tried to say it. “Slythrin.”

“No, Slytherin,” Draco said, getting his own clothes. Harry went under the covers so he could dress.

“Um Slither-in?” he said.

“No—Sly-the-rin!” Draco said. “Look we’ll get Mr. Willow to teach you. He’s very good.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, thankful that they stopped. He hated the feeling of saying words incorrectly. He remembered that whenever he lisped or misspoke, Dudley would laugh and mock him. He was happy that Draco wasn’t doing that. “Draco, I’m dressed,” he said, getting out of bed. He looked exactly like a four-year-old dressed him with no color coordination at all.

But Draco looked at him proudly, nodding to himself. “Let’s go!”

The two walked out of Draco’s room, Draco taking the lead as they made their way to the same smaller dining room where Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were waiting. Mrs. Malfoy watched as Harry walked in. “Harry,” she said, “what are you wearing?”

“Draco dressed me,” Harry said.

“I did a good job, didn’t I, mother?” Draco said.

Mrs. Malfoy did not comment. She just took out her wand and with a simple wave, Harry’s clothes changed, keeping the colors but looking more stylistic. “Much better,” she said, pocketing her wand and returning to her breakfast. Both adults had a stack of letters that they were going through. Mr. Malfoy was reading the newspaper and it looked strangely normal to Harry. No big good mornings or ‘how did you sleep’ just the two adults going about their business.

Harry and Draco sat next to each other and their plates were immediately filled with food and their cups with milk. Draco began eating immediately while Harry just stared at it. He felt unsure, he didn’t know if it was all for him or even if he was allowed to eat it all. Leaving his food untouched, Harry looked at Mr. Malfoy. “Umm Dad?”

Mr. Malfoy placed the newspaper down, looking at Harry. “Yes, Harry? Is the food not to your liking?”

“No! Uhh—I mean… is all of this for me?” He asked, pointing to the plate.

“Of course it is,” Mr. Malfoy said offhandedly.

“I won’t get in trouble for eating it?” Harry asked.

Mr. Malfoy frowned. Harry flinched, “I’m sorry!”

“No Harry,” Mr. Malfoy sighed. “I am not mad at you, or even disappointed. I’m angry at the muggles who took care of you.” He shook his head and thought for a moment. “You can eat and have whatever you want Harry. We have rules, yes, but they are simple rules that any child would follow. Listen to us, don’t backtalk, and do not break anything.”

“Oh. So I can eat?” Harry asked.

“I insist Harry, please eat,” Mr., Malfoy said, “and when we are done, I would like for you to come with me to my study. It would be beneficial, good, for both of us if I write down everything the muggles do to you.”

“Okay dad,” Harry nodded.

“Can I come too?” Draco asked.

“No, I need your help with the garden,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Yule is next month, and we need to make sure that the enchantments are working. You get to tell the house-elves what to do.”

“Okay!” Draco smiled broadly. Harry has gotten a feeling that one of Draco’s favorite things was bossing people around. He wondered what Yule was as he took his first bite of eggs, his eyes going large at the flavor. He started to eat faster and faster, gulping down milk like it was his last supper.

“Harry, slow down,” Mrs. Malfoy said, only glancing at him. “You’ll choke.” Harry stopped immediately and whimpered, touching his food only when he was sure Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy weren’t watching and going much slower.

When they were all done, the parents separated with their respected son. Mr. Malfoy brought Harry further into the mansion, going towards the back of the manor and up a staircase that turned into a hallway that looked over the main foyer of the manor. Mr. Malfoy’s study was in the middle of the hallway.

It was full of bookshelves of boring books, a fireplace, a large desk, and a few chairs and looked, in Harry’s opinion, very grown-up like. There were a couple of glass cases filled with strange objects that Harry never saw before. He approached one that looked like a dark crystal ball.

“Don’t touch that,” Mr. Malfoy said. “That is a Divination crystal ball used by a dark wizard. She used it to predict misfortune and misery on others.”

“Ohh that sounds bad,” Harry said. “Why do you have it?”

“It is part of my collection,” Mr. Malfoy explained. “I collect what many would consider ‘dark objects.’ Which are, objects filled or have been used for Dark magic. But that does not matter now, right now I want to hear everything the muggles did to you. Have a seat.”

Harry pulled himself up on one of the chairs in front of Mr. Malfoy’s desk. Mr. Malfoy sat down and pulled out a quill and ink along with a long piece of parchment. He wrote for a moment, his writing clean and precise before looking at Harry. “If you can, do your best to describe the cupboard,” he said.

Harry nodded and did his best to remember. “It was small, very small and under the stairs. So my bed was able to fit—I only had a Matt-tress, Mha—trees umm the part you lie on and a pillow. No blankets but like this small one and it’s very cold. When Dudley goes down the stairs, dust and stuff falls on me.”

Mr. Malfoy writes down and nodded, “Have you been sent to this room regularly?”

“Uh-huh. And there’s a lock so they lock me in,” Harry said.

“Do they give you food?”

“No.”

Mr. Malfoy gave a heavy sigh and wrote this down. He looked up at Harry. “Now tell me everything you remember about the muggles.”

Harry nodded and began to tell Mr. Malfoy about every slap, kick, and punch he received as well as every punishment and mistreatment that he remembered. The more he wrote, the harder it became for Mr. Malfoy to hide his anger at the muggles and Dumbledore. He remembered after the night the Potters died, it was Dumbledore who addressed the Ministry and telling them that Harry was alive and well, hidden someplace safe. When they were done, Mr. Malfoy thanked Harry and told him to go play with his brother while he finished up some work.

Harry nodded and ran out of the room, finding Draco. Not wanting to think about what they talked about, because playing is so much more important, the two retreated to Draco’s room, grabbed the toy broomsticks, and ran back out to zip around them all day. The day after proceeded in the same way and before Harry knew it, it was time for school with Mr. Willow.

It was a brisk November day. It was raining so Mr. Willow brought Harry and Draco into the sunroom to learn instead of outside. “Well boys, we have the whole afternoon together,” Mr. Willow smiled. “Draco, why don’t you continue on the letter D for a moment, I have a worksheet here. The letter lights up in a rainbow when you write it correctly. I need to talk with your brother.”

“Okay, but I’m watching! Because I’m the big brother,” Draco said.

“I’m sure you are a good big brother as well,” Mr. Willow chuckled. He gave Draco the paper as well as a rather large quill that was easy to hold. He smiled at Harry and sat down a little away from Draco. “Hello Harry, how are you?”

“Um alright, Mr. Willow,” Harry said.

“Good. Now, I just have a couple of questions. Your parents told me you don’t know any letters, is that true?”

“Yeah,” Harry said sheepishly.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, don’t worry,” Mr. Willow said. “You know, there are five-year-old children who don’t even know the alphabet song? Or even six-year-old children! And they’re really big boys.”

“Really?” Harry laughed. “I know that song though! I heard it Dudley singing loudly when I lived with the muggles!” He was proud of himself for pronouncing ‘muggles’ correctly.

“Really? Well, would you mind singing it for me?” Mr. Willow asked. Harry nodded and quickly sang the song in only the way a young boy can. Mr. Willow clapped. “Great job! You see, you’re already on your way knowing the letters! Here, let me show you.” He took out his wand and waved it. Letters appeared in front of Harry, floating gently. “Sing the song again and watch what happens.” Harry nodded and sang again. As he sang the coordinating letter lit up, amazing the young boy.

“You know your alphabet, now the next part is putting the letters to these symbols here,” Mr. Willow said. “For example A, the first letter in the Alphabet. See How the lines are put together? Like you’re making a triangle and moved the bottom line up a little.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry nodded.

“Good, now take my wand and I want you to trace the A, don’t worry, my wand won’t bite,” Mr. Willow chuckled. He handed Harry the wand. It felt odd yet powerful to hold like he was holding a hundred of Draco’s toy wands. He lifted the wand and did his best to trace the letter. “Good! Now…”

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry worked on the letter A before he and Draco moved to colors, shapes, and other subjects. Harry liked the way how Mr. Willow turned everything into a song. It was much easier to remember a song in Harry’s opinion. When Mr. Willow was done, he gave the boys a high-five and they were allowed to shook sparkles from his wand before going off to play. Even after Mr. Willow as gone, Harry kept singing the songs, much to his parents’ amusement.

The first week of his life as a Malfoy went on this way, and before Harry knew it, it was Saturday, and he and Mr. Malfoy were going to the Ministry of Magic.

“Mr. Willow told me that you are proceeding nicely in your lessons,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Uh-huh, I like him a lot,” Harry nodded. They were in the floo room again as Draco called it. Mrs. Malfoy made sure that Harry was dressed in his best. He was wearing a black robe over a comfortable button-down shirt and black slacks and newly shined leather shoes.

“That is good. Now Harry, unfortunately, we cannot use the floo network to get directly into the office we need, which means that we will have to arrive in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic and walk from there. I want you to keep close to me Harry, in fact never let go of my hand,” Mr. Malfoy instructed. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, dad,” Harry nodded.

“Good,” Mr. Malfoy said. He took Harry’s hand and stepped into the fireplace. Mr. Malfoy threw down floo powder and said, “Ministry of Magic.” Green flames shot up and for the second time Harry experience traveling by floo.

When their feet touched solid ground, Harry looked around, amazed at their surroundings. The room was huge, the walls filled with fireplaces with witches and wizards regularly appearing and disappearing in them. Harry squeezed Mr. Malfoy’s hand as they walked in, keeping as close to the man as he could. In the distance, Harry saw a large statue that he couldn’t see clearly. It was golden and he saw what looked like a wizard and a man-horse creature along with others he couldn’t see.

They walked with the crowd towards a pair of elevators at the end of the long room. Harry getting curious looks from the adults they passed. Harry shrank away from them and practically hugged Mr. Malfoy as they entered the elevator. “We are meeting the person with whom I’ve worked on this case on the second level. This is out of both of our jurisdictions technically, however, we both have certain connections that will smoothen the process.”

Harry nodded. He looked up to see paper airplanes fly in, hovering over their heads. He laughed at them, earning him more looks. They rode the elevator up to the second floor and stepped out. Mr. Malfoy immediately pulled him towards a large set of doors in front of them. Through the doors was a large room with many desks and a few other doors. Mr. Malfoy ignored the desks and went to the door to their right, opening to a private office with a man. The man was rather burly with wispy blond hair. “This Harry is Connor McLaggen. McLaggen, this is my son, Harry.”

“Hello Harry, I got a son a bit older than you,” McLaggen said, offering his hand. Harry glanced at Mr. Malfoy and shook McLaggen’s hand. He had a very tight grip. “Right, so shall we get to business? I got lunch with a couple of my friends from the Prophet in an hour,” he said. “Got some Aurors and Wizengamot members too.”

“Then you will get to tell them all about how you helped my son Harry Potter get away from abusive muggles,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Do you have your documents?”

“Of course! Had a friend up in the Auror department write it up,” McLaggen said.

“Good, give them to me. I have additional information I need to add, particularly the atrocities Harry went through,” Mr. Malfoy said. The man nodded and handed Mr. Malfoy a small stack of papers. “This will only take a moment, Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said. He took the papers and took out his own before moving to the desk and sitting behind it.

“So Harry,” Mr. McLaggen grinned, “I heard that you took a shine to Quidditch, eh? Or at least riding broomsticks.”

“Riding my toy broomstick is fun! But I don’t know what Quit-itch is,” Harry said.

“Lucius! You never taught him Quidditch?” McLaggen said, looking at Mr. Malfoy scandalously.

“I was occupied with making sure he is my son legally as well as getting him accustomed to living with his new family,” Mr. Malfoy said, not even glancing up to entertain McLaggen’s outcry.

“Well how about after all this I take you to a game, huh? You, me, your brother, and my son Cormac. I have a feeling you and Cormac will get along great,” McLaggen smirked.

“Neither Draco nor Harry will be leaving the manor until the new year at least,” Mr. Malfoy said, not bothering to look up. “They will be busy both with their studies as well as keeping away from whatever backlash there will be from a supposed Death Eater adopting Harry Potter.”

“Then why even have me talk about it to my friends in the paper?” McLaggen asked.

“Because then I will be able to control the story,” Mr. Malfoy said simply. “For otherwise, if it is just found out that I adopted Harry, people will naturally assume the worst and wonder ‘why Malfoy?’ Not to mention whatever sob story Dumbledore will produce. As I told you, he is the man who delivered Harry to the muggles in the first place.”

“Yeah, well anyway when can I take your boys and mine to see a Quidditch game?” McLaggen asked. Mr. Malfoy did not answer, instead he just continued to write. A couple of minutes passed in silence before he stood up. “They are done,” he said. He sighed the bottom and looked at McLaggen, handing him the quill. McLaggen signed the papers as well. “He’s keeping his last name?” he asked.

“That was what Harry wanted,” Mr. Malfoy said, “however that does not mean he is any less my son.” He tapped the papers with his wand, and they organized themselves neatly. Mr. Malfoy placed them into a black envelope that tied close. He attached a quick note to it and allowed it to fly away. “Now that it is done, I’ll allow the Minister to file it away for me,” Mr. Malfoy said. “He will also, undoubtedly, offer congratulations both personally and in the paper after tomorrow.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“To you, nothing you need to worry about,” Mr. Malfoy said. “However, as of when I and Mr. McLaggen here signed our names, you are now officially my legal son, Harry.” He patted Harry’s shoulder and offered a private smile. “Come along,” he said. “I am sure you want to tell Draco this immediately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the mention of Cormac. He will never be mentioned or seen again.....


	4. Harry Potter Found!

Chapter 4

Harry Potter Found!

_Harry Potter is found at last! After disappearing mysteriously in the dead of night and being the only survivor of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, Harry Potter has returned alive and well in the Wizarding World. Mr. Potter, four, has for the last three years been living with muggle relatives until a week ago where they have been reportedly abandoned him. Desperate and alone, Potter wandered around London where a generous and kind man has found him and decided to adopt Potter. That man was none other than Lucius Malfoy, a frequent donator to the Ministry of Magic and various charities, who has a couple of years ago been cleared of any charges or accusations of being a follower of You-Know-Who._

_The Generous Mr. Malfoy submitted adoption papers to the Ministry yesterday morning, handing the papers signed by Mr. Malfoy and his wife as well as Connor McLaggen as a witness, to the Minister of Magic himself. On this matter, the Minister said, “It is very lucky that we have found Mr. Potter. Though Albus Dumbledore has promised and relieved us that he was safe with family, we still had our doubts. I am happy that the young boy is with Mr. Malfoy, who is very capable of raising him.” Mr. Malfoy refused to comment or allow us to talk with Harry Potter. However, their witness Connor McLaggen has commented at great lengths, going into detail of the trials Mr. Potter had to live with his muggle relatives._

_“It was surprising hearing about it myself, I met young Harry and the boy looks so small. You wouldn’t imagine he went through all those terrible, terrible things,” McLaggen said. “The beatings, starving and just general neglect tore my heart out. After hearing everything I had to run home and hug my son Cormac for hours on end!”_

_At this time there has been no official request of an investigation against Harry Potter’s relatives, however it should be noted that their names have yet been released to the public. We are left wondering why it is that Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, left Harry Potter in such an environment. Mr. Malfoy had this to say on the matter, “I do not doubt for a moment on Headmaster Dumbledore’s intentions. Leaving Harry with his relatives after such a horrible tragedy is a natural conclusion. However, to not check up on him? To leave the boy with these relatives and not worry or hope that he is doing well? That is true neglect. I found my son blind and wandering the streets. He desperately needed glasses, so I went and brought him a pair. It was there, and after feeding him his first proper meal in two days, that I’ve learned about his mistreatment. Now, he is under my care and that will be all I will say on this topic.”_

_While Mr. Malfoy will undoubtedly provide the home and care that our savior deserves, there are some who wonder if he himself is fit enough to raise Harry. However, despite it all, we could not find Professor Dumbledore for a comment._

Albus Dumbledore was visibly shaking. His morning copy of the Daily Prophet laid on his desk, his morning tea forgotten. Harry wasn’t with his relatives. That cannot be! His breakfast left behind, Dumbledore stormed out of his office and Hogwarts, disappearing as soon as he crossed the gates.

He reappeared in front of the Dursley’s home. Pounding on the door, he waited five whole minutes before Petunia answered. “Where is Harry?” he demanded.

“Not here, and we don’t talk with you lot,” Petunia said, slamming the door in Dumbledore’s face.

Dumbledore stood, shocked for a moment, before pounding on the door again. This time Vernon answered, “Stop your knocking! You are waking Dudley up!” Vernon yelled as he opened the door.

“Vernon Dursley! Do not test me—where is Harry Potter?” Dumbledore demanded.

“I haven’t seen the freak in a week and good riddance now leave me alone!” Vernon yelled and he slammed the door once more. Dumbledore stepped back. _No, that can’t be,_ he thought. _Harry is with a Death Eater. I have to save him._

Harry rolled off his bed. He didn’t mean to honestly. He just wanted to find out what would happen. The answer was that it hurt. He didn’t cry. Instead, he just rolled around and jumped up, looking around his room. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy started getting him toys. He got a toy snake for himself, along with his own toy broomstick and toy wands. Stuffed dragons and other creatures filled the shelves, and one of Harry’s favorite things to do was to have a stuffed dragon and lion fight on his bed before cuddling them and falling asleep.

He took his toy snake and ran into Draco’s room to find that it was empty. Frowning, he looked around and called out for Dobby, the only house-elf’s name he can remember. He felt awkward doing it but he needed to know where his brother was. Dobby appeared before him and said, “What can Dobby do for master?”

“Umm, do you know where my brother is?” Harry asked.

“Master Draco is on his broomstick outside, Master Harry,” the house-elf said.

“Oh! Thank you,” Harry smiled, and he ran out of the room. He ran down the hallway and stairs into the main foyer, which he found was the quickest way outside. He turned to run to the sunroom in the back when he heard a loud pounding on the doors. He stopped, scared when house-elves appeared to answer. The aggressive pounding continued, and Harry ran towards the nearest hallway and hid in it as Mr. Malfoy appeared.

“What is going on?” he demanded. “We do not have any more company planned today. Open the door!”

The house-elves winced at his anger and quickly moved to open the door. Harry watched as a very angry old man with long silver hair and beard walked in. he was wearing purple robes. “Where is he Lucius?” he demanded.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how surprisingly,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Why are you here uninvited? My Draco is much too young to enter Hogwarts.”

“Do not joke with me Lucius, where is Harry Potter?” the man named Dumbledore demanded. Harry gave a gasp and stepped back.

“Harry? Why would you have business with my son?” Mr. Malfoy asked. “Surely you are not thinking of letting him go to Hogwarts at such a young age too,” he joked.

“Do not test me—the boy does not belong here. He belongs with his family!”

“We are his family, sir,” Mr. Malfoy said. “You seem to be under some misunderstanding.”

Dumbledore pulled his wand and aimed it at Mr. Malfoy, who stood calmly. Harry gasped and ran away, needing to find Mrs. Malfoy or Draco.

Mr. Malfoy glanced behind and smirked, “It looks as though you’ve scared my son away,” he said to Dumbledore.

Harry ran down the corridor, his heart pounding fiercely as he looked around frantically for either his brother or mum. “Draco! Draco! Mum!” he screamed. “Mum!” He ran into the sunroom and yelled, “MUM!”

Mrs. Malfoy was with company and she stood up, “Harry stop running! Why are you screaming?”

“There’s a scary man with Dad!” Harry said. “He has his wand on him!”

Mrs. Malfoy’s face immediately hardened, and she looked at the other women. “I’m sorry, excuse me. Harry, go outside and play with your brother.”

Harry nodded and went outside where he found his brother flying around on his toy broomstick. “DRACO!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, running. Surprised, Draco slipped off and fell the half-foot into the ground.

“Ow—what Harry?” he demanded.

“There’s a bad man with Dad!” Harry said. “He has a wand on him!! Mum is going now!”

“A bad man? Where?” Draco asked.

“In the front,” Harry said.

“The foyer,” Draco said correctly. “Let’s go!”

They ran back into the manor using a different door and Draco led Harry back towards the foyer, where they hid in a hallway as their parents talked with the scary man.

“As I told you before, Harry Potter is now my son, he belongs here,” Mr. Malfoy said. “We have taken much better care than those muggles ever have.”

“That does not matter—the Potters wanted Harry to be raised by their family,” Dumbledore said.

“You are wrong, actually, in the case of their deaths, Harry was supposed to go to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin according to their wills,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I had to research them during the adoption process—and wouldn’t you know there was not a word about the Dursleys.” He chuckled. “If you really knew what they wanted, you would have brought him to his godfathers. Instead, you brought him to muggles and one godfather got himself sent to Azkaban and the other, well, he is just unfit in general now isn’t he?”

“That does not excuse kidnapping, Lucius,” Dumbledore said. “I placed Harry where he is safest from Voldemort’s followers—you included.” Mrs. Malfoy jumped at the name and Draco gasped. He looked at Harry who watched, confused.

“That’s You-Know-Who’s name,” Draco hissed.

Harry’s eyes grew and looked at Dumbledore.

“I have been cleared of all charges and accusations, Headmaster,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I was under the Imperius Curse.”

“And yet I still have to say that this place is not safe for Harry,” Dumbledore said. “It is a well-known rumor that you have Dark Objects, I refuse to even allow Harry to be near a house with dangerous objects!”

“I still do not see how this involves you, sir,” Mr. Malfoy said. “You are just the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Yes, you are the one who supposedly found Harry after the attack, however that does not put you in charge of his wellbeing.”

“Then let the boy speak for himself,” Dumbledore said. “See if he truly wants to stay here or return to his family.”

“No, you will not speak to any of my children,” Mr. Malfoy said. “They have nothing to do with you, sir, and I am afraid that my hospitality with you is starting to run out.”

“You are making a mistake Lucius Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, “I can beat you both easily and I will take Harry back by force if I need to.”

“And have the whole Auror Department hounding you? Really Dumbledore, can’t you pretend to be civilized?” Mr. Malfoy chuckled.

“I have friends too, Lucius. Harry Potter will not stay here for long,” Dumbledore said. “I can have them force you to give Harry back to his true family.”

Mrs. Malfoy gave a polite laugh. She stepped forward and smiled at Dumbledore, “Headmaster, think about this,” she began. “With the muggles, Harry slept in a cupboard, forced to do chores he simply could not do, and handled dangerous objects that constantly cut, harmed, and or maimed him. He has bad eyesight which he inherited from his father, their brother-in-law and yet instead of getting him glasses, the muggles allowed him to walk around blind, doing these awful chores and giving him no education whatsoever. Now compare that to what we have offered and provided. At their meeting, Lucius noticed Harry’s problem immediately and brought him to get glasses. We fed him properly instead of only giving him scrapes that the muggles have done, as well as giving him a proper bedroom with toys and books to play with. Every weekday afternoon, he has a tutoring session with Mr. Willow and his brother, and after only a week he has made excellent progress. He is happy here, as well as developing as any healthy boy is supposed to develop. Now tell me, please, how will your friends respond to learning this? Which my husband has already openly talked about both to the newspaper as well as to members of the Ministry themselves. I, too, have talked about it with my own friends. They all know about Harry and his excellent development. Would you honestly think that they would take this all away from Harry? That they would take away his lessons, his family, his brother especially, all to stick him into a house where he is not wanted? How would that make you look in the public’s eye, headmaster?”

Dumbledore gave a solemn frown. He looked at both of the Malfoys in silence. “You both are making a grave mistake,” he muttered. “Harry Potter does not belong here.” He turned and left, the doors closing behind him. Draco looked to find that Harry was on the floor, holding himself as he cried.

“Harry?”

“Why does that bad man hate me?” Harry sniffled. “What did I do to him?”

“Harry,” Draco repeated. He got to the floor, hugging his brother tightly. Harry’s crying has gotten their parents’ attention. Draco looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy looking down on them.

“Why wouldn’t I figured that the two of you would try to eavesdrop,” Mr. Malfoy huffed. “How much did you boys hear?”

“All of it,” Draco said sheepishly.

“Dad,” Harry sniffled, “Is that bad man going to take me away? I don’t wanna go.”

“No,” Mr. Malfoy said. “There is nothing Dumbledore can do that will take you away from your family.”

“Harry do not worry about it,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “How about this, you and Draco go down to the kitchen and tell the house-elves to bake you cookies. Afterward, you both can help me plan for our Yule ball—err party. All of Draco’s friends will be there.”

“Including Blaise, you remember him right?” Draco nodded.

Harry wiped his eyes and nodded. “He’s the best friend,” he said. “I remember.”

“Good,” Draco smiled. “Come on.” He pulled Harry up but still hugged onto him as they walked away. Harry was still worried about the bad man, but he knew that as long as he had Draco, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one this time but next chapter.... oh boy next chapter.


	5. New Friends

Chapter 5

New Friends

Christmas came quickly to Malfoy Manor. It began with the snow. Harry saw snow, of course, however it felt different on Malfoy Manor. Halfway through December was the first snowfall and Harry spent the entire day outside watching. Mrs. Malfoy charmed Harry and Draco’s clothes with a warming spell, so the cold did not even affect Harry beside from reddening his cheeks and nose. He remembered in Surrey the snow fell heavy and sloshed quickly, turning black as it mixed with the road, soot, and car exhaust. Here, however, the snow seemed whiter, magical, and softer. It fell softly onto the grounds, blanketing everything in a smooth untouched layer of pure white snow. The garden was enchanted so that while snow fell, the plants did not wilt or die, instead everything had a frozen blue glow, the plants looking as though they were just sleeping in their icy beds.

It was great for Harry and Draco to play in the snow all day as their parents busy themselves and the house-elves getting the house ready for the Christmas party which they kept calling a “Yule Ball.”

Lights were being set up, hovering orbs of glittering lights shining outside over the frozen lake and garden that made them look even more magical to Harry. Inside, there were icicles that never melt hanging off the banisters and chandeliers as well as many tall Christmas trees each being decorated spectacularly in bright orbs and shining lights. It was all just an overload of Christmas to Harry’s sensations and it brought a smile to his eyes and mouth. So much so that during his lessons with Mr. Willow, he would stop what he was doing to just hum Christmas tunes and scribble presents.

Before the young boy knew it, it was Christmas Eve and Harry insisted on sleeping with Draco, much to his parents’ confusion. “Harry, you have a perfectly good bed just across the room,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “Why do you want to sleep with your brother?”

“Because then Santa will find us easier and he won’t forget about me like last year,” Harry said simply. “So if I sleep with Draco he won’t forget!”

The Malfoys looked at each other for a second, frowning. “Well, he will not forget you tonight either way,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“But—but—”

“Harry stop stuttering, now you will go to your room and sleep!” Mr. Malfoy snapped.

Harry sniffled and gave out a loud cry that shook his entire body. Mr. Malfoy scoffed and left while Mrs. Malfoy stayed. Harry continued to cry as Mrs. Malfoy sighed, “Harry honestly really, this is no crying matter.”

“Um it’s fine if he sleeps with me,” Draco said.

“Draco no, you have your bed and Harry has his,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Go to bed.” Draco huffed and crossed his arms. “No!”

“Draco!” Mrs. Malfoy yelled, “Don’t be stubborn! Both of you, go to sleep.” She snapped her fingers and house-elves appeared. They took both boys and dragged them to their bedrooms. Harry struggled against the house-elf. “No! No! Santa is going to forget me! No!” he cried out.

“Please Master Harry—Please stop hurting Dobby!” the house-elf begged. Harry did not listen and continued to fight until he was lifted into the air by nothing and placed into his bed, the covers holding him down. Harry struggled until he ran out of energy and huffed. “FINE!” he yelled. “Then it’s all Daddy and Mommy’s fault that Santa forgets me!”

The house-elf winced and disappeared, leaving Harry alone. Harry struggled to get out of bed immediately, but the covers still held him down. Pouting, Harry closed his eyes and kept as still as he could, pretending to sleep. He waited and was just about to lull off when the blankets suddenly felt lighter. His eyes snapped open and Harry grabbed his glasses as he rolled out of bed.

Giggling to himself, Harry ran out of his bedroom and into Draco’s where the blond was still sitting awake and pouting angrily. “Harry?”

“Hello,” Harry smiled. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Yeah!”

Both boys grinned as Harry moved into Draco’s bed. He took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand and moved close to Draco. They rolled towards each other and hugged, limps tangling. “You’re warm,” Harry hummed, “Like my dragon toy!”

“Good, it’s a big brother’s job to be warm for hugs,” Draco nodded.

“Is it?” Harry blinked.

“I don’t know,” Draco shrugged.

“Then it is,” Harry smiled. He yawned and pulled Draco closer, hugging him like one of his toys. Draco hugged him back and holding each other the brothers fell asleep. Hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy walked in to check on their sons. “How did he get out of bed?” Mr. Malfoy demanded quietly.

“He must have tricked the house-elves,” Mrs. Malfoy, looking amused. “If we ever had any doubt on which House he will end up in school, they’re gone now.”

“But to blatantly disobey,” Mr. Malfoy hissed.

“You heard what he said, he thought that this was the only way he would get presents, the poor dear,” Mrs. Malfoy frowned. “Let’s just have their little sleepover tonight. We can talk to them about how the Muggles made sure Santa couldn’t find Harry after everything is over.”

“Yes, fine,” Mr. Malfoy said. He gave his sons one final look before walking away.

Harry and Draco woke up the next morning. For once, they did not jump out of bed immediately. Instead, they stared at each other, confused, before remembering what happened last night. Harry giggled and smirked as he sat up. “I beat the house-elves!” he cheered loudly. “And that means that Santa didn’t forget me!”

“Let’s go see!” Draco said. They both jumped out of bed, not bothering to brush their teeth, or getting out of their pajamas. They just slipped their socks and slippers on and ran out of Draco’s bedroom. The two children ran down to the main Christmas Tree, which was the tallest of all twelve trees in the home. The tree barely reached the high ceiling of what Mrs. Malfoy called the great hall, although to Harry it was more of a very, very large room. A large room that was currently decorated with circular tables each with chairs around them spread across the room with the center being cleared. The tree was at the top of the room, and underneath it was the biggest pile of presents Harry has ever seen in his life.

He ran to the pile only to stop meekly in front of them. “Draco,” he said with a sudden worry, “what if Santa forgot about me?”

“Why would he? He never forgets—Blaise told me so,” Draco said. He looked at the presents and made a noise, picking up a box. He stared at it for a while, as though deciphering what it said. “See! This one has your name,” Draco pointed at the label on it. Harry looked at it and recognized his name.

“It’s for me!” he smiled.

“Yes, however, neither of you will open a single gift until after breakfast,” came a shrewd voice. Both boys turned to see Mr. Malfoy, already dressed, looking at the two of them with a stony expression. “As well as properly dressed,” he added.

“But father—presents!” Draco said.

“Do not talk back!” Mr. Malfoy said harshly. “Now,” he snapped his fingers and house-elves appeared. “Make sure my sons are dressed properly in their own rooms and bring them for breakfast.”

The house-elves bowed, and Mr. Malfoy walked away. “Please masters, please come with us,” the house-elves said, trying to pull Draco and Harry gently. The boys pouted, clearly angry, but moved with the elves back to their rooms. Harry dressed in the clothes the house-elves chose for him and pouted as he and Draco were escorted back to the dining room where their parents were waiting.

Harry decided he was going to be quiet. He barely said good morning to his parents and just ate his breakfast with his head down. His parents talked pleasantly to one another, mainly on who will be coming to the party later that day and last-minute preparations. Harry did not care. He was still angry at his dad that he took him away from the presents.

Breakfast went on for too long for Harry and Draco, and when they were finally done, Mr. Malfoy hexed their shoes so that they were forced to walk, instead of run, back to the great hall room so they could _finally_ open presents!

Mrs. Malfoy waved her wand, and the presents all floated from the tree, sorting themselves into four piles. Draco and Harry’s piles were larger than their parents. Harry sat down, staring at his pile in amazement while Draco immediately started opening. “Harry, open your presents,” Draco urged. Harry shook himself from his stupor and nodded.

“Okay,” he said taking a small present. The label was very colorful, and his name was written largely, under which was Mr. Willow’s name. “It’s from Mr. Willow!” Harry said excitedly, recognizing the W. He opened it to see a set of colorful quills. “Huh?”

“Ahh those,” Mrs. Malfoy chuckled. “These quills don’t need ink Harry, and look, their colors show what colors your letters will be.”

“Oh!” Harry said. He looked at the colors and immediately took to the pink quill, writing out his name in childish scrawl. “It works!”

Mrs. Malfoy chuckled, amused. Harry put the quills to the side and started opening more presents. Whenever he got a new toy, he would play with it for a second or two before putting it to the side and grab more presents. The clothing he just threw over his shoulder, much to his father’s annoyance. “Harry! That is no way to treat clothing!” he yelled at Harry, who flinched.

“Lucius, really,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “Give the boys a break today, Harry is just excited.” She turned to Harry, “Open your next present,” she said.

Harry nodded and grabbed a big present. It was his very own toy broomstick! The wood was smooth and black with silver bristles at the end. Harry hugged it and put it next to him, although his eyes always returned to it for the rest of the morning. By the time both boys were done, house-elves were already cleaning up the scraps of paper and boxes, as well as taking the toys and clothes to put away. Harry had to grab his new broomstick before they could take it and he jumped up and smiled at Draco. “Let’s go flying!” he said.

“Hold it,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Both of you will stay inside, I do not want the grounds to be trampled or ruined in any way. Also, as you know guests will be here starting at five in the early evening. I expect you both to be on your best behavior… or else.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good,” Mr. Malfoy said. “The house-elves will help you both get changed for the gathering half an hour before it starts. Do not give them a hard time, Harry. We are expected to welcome every guest and I would not be pleased if you are late.”

Both boys looked at each other, a little scared, but nodded. They ran off and decided that it would not be breaking the rules if they flew their broomsticks between their two rooms. After all the hallway was theirs as was their room, and there would be zero reasons for any of the guests to decide to walk up and check on the kids’ bedrooms.

So that was what they did. Harry opened their doors as fast they could, and the boys zipped between the two rooms, diving, and weaving around each other whenever they met. House-elves worried and scampered around trying to keep the boys from knocking their toys over, however, though they teased the shelves and bookcases in their rooms, neither Harry nor Draco ran into anything as they flew around, getting closer and closer to each other with each pass through.

They did not have lunch in the dining room, instead, food appeared in Draco’s room and they ate together before playing some more. When it was time for the party, house-elves dragged Harry out of Draco’s room, both puffing and huffing like wolves. Dobby helped Harry dress, laying out a small suit for Harry to wear. It was soft but he felt uncomfortable in it as he couldn’t run and bend as he wanted. Also, it had a tie that choked his neck and he couldn’t loosen.

“I hate this,” Harry pouted to Draco, pulling the tie.”

Draco laughed and shook his head, “There’s a trick,” he said. “Watch this.” He stepped to Harry and grabbed his shirt, unbuttoning the top button that pressed against Harry’s lower neck. The pressure against his neck weakened and Harry felt like he could breathe normally. The tie hid the button, making it look as though it was still buttoned.

“Thank you!” Harry smiled, hugging Draco. Draco hugged back and they held hands as they walked back to their parents who were waiting for them at the front of their home.

Mr. Malfoy made no comments on their appearance past a short nod. He brought them to the front door, which opened on its own. Outside it was snowing lightly, however, the pathway was meticulously clean of any snow, and Harry watched as any snow that would fall on the pathway simply disappeared before even getting close to touching the ground. In the distance, he saw people appearing out of thin air and looked at his father, confused. “Why don’t they just appear here?” he asked.

“Only family can Apparate directly into our home, they are simply guests,” Mr. Malfoy explained.

“Oh,” Harry nodded. The first guests arrived. Two adults walked in with a girl around their age. The girl had long brown hair styled straight and was wearing a pink dress with sparkles on the skirt.

“Ah the Greengrass,” Mr. Malfoy smiled, “So good of you to come, thank you for accepting our invitation.” He shook Mr. Greengrass’s hand while Mrs. Malfoy nodded to Mrs. Greengrass. “These are my sons, Draco and Harry,” he said.

“Hello, sir,” Draco said.

“Hello,” Harry said simply. The two shook Mr. Greengrass’s hand, the man stopping at Harry.

“Harry Potter,” he said with a look in his eyes that Harry did not like. “I did not expect to ever see you here, young man. Especially in Lucius’ collection.”

“He is my son,” Mr. Malfoy said a little shortly. “I would rather you not gawk or stare at him.”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Greengrass said, clearing his throat.

“Darling, Daphne,” Mrs. Greengrass whispered.

“Oh yes! This is our oldest, Daphne. Her sister, Astoria, is a tad too young for this,” Mr. Greengrass said. “Say hello Daphne.”

“Hello,” the young girl said.

Harry grinned. “I like your dress; pink is one of my favorite colors!”

“Harry!” Mr. Malfoy hissed. Harry looked up at him, confused. The girl just stood there, unsure how to respond while the adults watched the two. “Mr. Greengrass I apologize for my son’s behavior; he can be rather tactless with his words.”

“Lucius honestly,” Mrs. Malfoy said, shaking her head. She smiled and whispered something to Mrs. Greengrass who gave out a small polite laugh. “Narcissa, we simply must have to catch up,” she said. “Come along,” she tugged Daphne’s hand with Mr. Greengrass following. Harry frowned and looked down at his feet.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked, “I really did like her dress.”

“Yes, well Harry, you really should not start with such a statement,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “You can tell her about her pretty dress later, however, right now stick to hello or copy your brother.”

“Fine,” Harry said. He crossed his arms for a moment before letting them drop as the next guests come by. They were the Crabbes, followed by the Goyles both with sons around Harry and Draco’s ages. They both kept it to “hello” and left it at that. After them were the Nott family. While the adults were saying their hellos, Draco took the initiative to introduce Harry to the skinny boy with neat black hair, “Harry, this is my friend Theo. Theo, this is Harry my younger brother! I’m the big brother.”

“Obviously,” Theo said. He turned to Harry, “Hello, are you really Harry Potter? Can I see your scar?”

“Uhh—” Harry stood in place as Theo stepped forward and pushed Harry’s hair up to see his scar. He made a small noise of excitement and fixed Harry’s hair. “Thank you,” he smiled. “I’ll talk with you later Harry.”

“Uhh okay,” Harry nodded and watched as Theo walked away with his parents.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just very curious,” Draco said, pronouncing the last word slowly to get it right. He grinned and returned to his place to wait for the next round of guests.

Next came an old man whom Harry disliked immediately. His name was Yaxley and he kept staring at Harry as he talked with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. He also never called Harry by his name, always referring to him as ‘Potter.’ Harry didn’t like that. As soon as he left Harry tugged Mr. Malfoy’s shirt to get his attention, “Can I be Malfoy instead?” he asked, “I didn’t like the way that man said my name.”

“You are already a Malfoy, Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“But I thought my last name was Potter,” Harry frowned.

“We’ll talk about this later—but rest assure legally you are Harry Malfoy,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Ahh! Zabini is here.” He said, looking outside.

Harry looked to see a very beautiful woman walking towards him with her son. The woman was dressed lavishly in a long flowing dress that hugged her body, accenting her dark skin. The boy next to her had darker skin and was also very pretty in Harry’s opinion. He had short hair and was wearing a suit like Harry and Draco. When the two were close enough, the boy took a deep bow in front of Mrs. Malfoy, taking her offered hand and kissing it, “Hello Mrs. Malfoy,” he said.

“My, what a charmer,” Mrs. Malfoy chuckled, “I take it this is your doing?” she asked the woman.

“Of course,” Mrs. Zabini said, “my Blaise takes after me, thankfully. It has been some time Narcissa, we really should go out more, leave your husband with our sons.”

“That would give poor Lucius a heart attack, wouldn’t it, dear?” Mrs. Malfoy chuckled.

“Unavoidably,” Mr. Malfoy said. Blaise turned to the boys and ignored Draco as he smiled at Harry.

“Hello,” he said, bowing deeply and taking Harry’s hand. He kissed it and smiled, “I’m Blaise, Blaise Zabini.”

Harry’s cheeks turned red, “Uh I’m Harry Malfoy,” he said. He looked at his brother and parents. Mrs. Malfoy simply chuckled along with Mrs. Zabini while Mr. Malfoy frowned. “Blaise,” he said simply.

“I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, but my mother taught me to say hello to beautiful people like that,” Blaise said.

“Boys cannot be beautiful, Blaise,” Mr. Malfoy said, sounding a little disapproved.

“I beg to differ,” Mrs. Zabini said. “There are some boys and men out there who are much more beautiful than women and girls! Of course, they are mostly interested in the same group, so I never have a chance.” She sighed and shook her head. Harry was confused by this and looked at Blaise.

“Draco told me that you’re the best,” he said.

“He’s right, I am,” Blaise smirked. “I’ll see you later, okay?” He walked away with his mother, and Draco scoffed.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“My best friend did not even say hi to me!” Draco exclaimed. “So rude!”

“Sorry,” Harry said. The last of the guests arrived, many of whom with names that started to blur together for Harry. There was Flint, he thought, as well as a Travers? Travels? Many of them were adults but some brought children older than them. The last of the guests had a girl around their age. “I am Pansy Parkinson,” she said, thrusting her hand in Harry’s direction. He looked at her, she had a very frilly dress that somehow made pink look bad. She had a rather snobbish way about her, Harry thought, and her nose reminded him of a dog. He kept his mouth close and nodded, shaking her hand. When the Parkinsons left, Mr. Malfoy said, “Good job Harry, thank you for showing restraint on not commenting on her dress.”

“That’s because I didn’t like the dress, it made pink look ugly,” Harry said simply.

Mrs. Malfoy snickered and quickly covered her mouth to hide her laughter while Mr. Malfoy just sighed. “Ignoring that comment… both of you have done a relatively good job inviting our guests. Draco, do you know which table you are sitting with?”

“Yes, Father! With the rest of the children,” Draco nodded. He turned to Harry and smiled, “I helped with the seating, so I put you right next to me!” he said proudly. Harry smiled and nodded.

“Good, then go on and do not cause trouble, we are to stay in the great hall until guests leave,” Mr. Malfoy said. The boys nodded and walked with their parents through the foyer and into the great hall.

Music swelled from the air, a light classical orchestra playing a mixture of traditional Christmas music and classical composures. The house-elves looked like roving platters, holding silver platters with crystal glasses or food, moving expertly around the guests. The witches and wizards did not even look down as they picked up a glass or a small piece of food, nor did they thank the house-elves which Harry found very weird. Whenever he could, he would say thank you to the house-elves. Except for when he’s taking a bath. He’s too busy playing to remember.

Draco took Harry’s hand and pulls him through the crowd. Harry couldn’t help but giggle as Draco puffed up his chest with pride, escorting Harry as though both of them were the most important people in the room. They found Blaise and Theo first, standing by the huge Christmas tree. “Beautiful Harry!” Blaise smiled.

“Bad Blaise!” Draco countered. “You did not say hi to me!”

“Oh. Hi!” Blaise said happily.

“No, it doesn’t work like that!” Draco pouted.

Harry frowned, “It’s okay,” he said, squeezing his hand. “I’m sure Blaise didn’t mean it!”

“Fine, I’ll forgive Blaise,” Draco said.

“Good! So Harry! How did you get here?” Blaise asked, “Theo and I wanna know!’

Harry looked at Draco and asked, “Can I tell them?”

“Yes,” Draco said, permitting Harry. Still holding Draco’s hand, Harry told Blaise and Theo everything he could remember about how he came to be Draco’s brother. When he was done, Blaise and Theo were silent for a moment. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Theo said, “Those muggles sounded awful. You’re much better off here with us.”

“Yeah! It’ll be great,” Blaise smiled. “We’re gonna play together and grow up together and go to Hogwarts together and be in Slytherin together!”

“I wanna be in Slythrin,” Harry smiled, still saying the word wrong. Draco grumbled, “I told you how to say it rightly.”

“Sorry! Uhh, Sid-er-in? Sly-da-rin—it’s hard!” Harry pouted.

“Sly-the-rin! Sly-the-rin! Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin—ow!” Draco winced, sticking out his tongue. “I bit my tongue because of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

“Bah, it’s fine just say Slytherin rightly from now on,” Draco grunted, shrugging.

“Uh it’s correctly, my mother told me that in this, you should have said correctly,” Theo said. Draco gave Theo a face, sticking out his tongue.

“Harry, can you hold my hand?” Blaise asked out of the blue, “I want to hold a beautiful boy’s hand!”

“You’re so stupid, boys can’t be pretty,” a snobbish voice said. Harry looked to see Pansy Parkinson walking towards them with Daphne behind her. “And where is my hello? You didn’t say a word to me at all Potter!”

Harry frowned. “Dad says I’m a Malfoy,” he started, “and Blaise’s mom says that boys can be bee-yut-tea-full! And pretty!”

“Well they’re wrong,” Pansy said stubbornly, “because _my_ father told me that only girls are pretty and beau-tea-full! And he’s more smart than anyone!”

“Smarter,” Theo muttered softly.

“Uhh—” Daphne said.

“No he’s not my dad is,” Harry insisted.

“Excuse me,” Daphne said softly.

“Oh stop Potter you’re wrong!”

“Harry—”

“Yes?” Harry asked, looking at Daphne. The girl stepped up shyly and swung her dress a little, “Did you really mean it? About my dress?” she asked.

“Yeah!” Harry said, smiling, almost completely forgetting about Pansy. “It’s very pretty _and_ one of my favorite colors!”

“It’s my favorite color too,” Daphne said, smiling. “Do you have pink things too?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Boys aren’t supposed to like pink! That’s bad,” Pansy butted in. “You’re weird!”

“At least I don’t make pink look ugly like you,” Harry shrugged. Blaise laughed loudly while the others gasped. Pansy’s face shriveled up and turned into a shade of red.

“You are so mean!” she said, stomping her foot. “Father says your mother was a mudblood and it looks like that’s true!”

Harry felt like he was insulted but didn’t know what she meant. He looked at the others’ faces to see that they were shocked and looking around nervously. He frowned and turned to his brother, “Draco? What did she call mummy?” he asked.

Draco shook his head. “Bad word,” he said simply. “But she didn’t mean mother.”

Harry was still confused. It took him a moment before realizing she meant his other mum. He gasped and turned to her, huffing, “Don’t call my mum bad words! I’ll tell my dad!”

“Talk to me like a boy is supposed to talk to a girl then,” Pansy sneered. “You weirdo who likes pink!”

Harry made an angry noise and stomped away, looking frantically for a shade of platinum blond. He found his mother first; she was talking with Mrs. Zabini and another woman whose name Harry forgot already. He stopped and waited until someone stopped talking, like he was taught, and said, “Mum! I need to tell you something important.”

“What is it dear?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“Pansy! She called my other mummy a bad word,” Harry said. He was scared to say it out loud and gestured for her to come closer. The women giggled as Mrs. Malfoy frowned, kneeling so Harry could whisper in her ear, “She called my other mummy a mudblood. Draco told me it’s a bad word. What does that mean?”

Mrs. Malfoy frowned, “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she said. “Right now, come with me for a moment, I will speak with the Parkinsons. No need to involve your father in this.” She took Harry’s hand and they walked around until they found Pansy’s parents, along with the girl herself who looked rather smug. “Narcissa! Just who we wanted to see,” Mr. Parkinson said, looking annoyed. “Did you know your son insulted our darling daughter?”

“Strange, I’ve come here to tell you about how your darling daughter deeply insulted Harry’s birth mother,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Now tell me, how exactly did he insult her?”

“Called her ugly,” Mr. Parkinson said.

“I did not!” Harry said, “I said she made her dress look ugly! She’s been nothing but mean to me saying I can’t be bee-yut-tea-full or pretty after Blaise called me that and that I’m a weirdo because pink is one of my favorite colors!”

“Harry,” Mrs. Malfoy gasped.

“That’s because it’s true!” Pansy yelled, “Tell him, daddy!”

Mr. Parkinson frowned, he started to sweat and took off his hat that he was wearing, revealing his baldness. He cleared his throat as Mrs. Malfoy stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “So if I get this correct,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “My son was in a conversing with young Blaise when your daughter interrupted their conversation only to say not a greeting, but an insult to your hosts’ son and continued insulting when Harry did not comply to her views? It seems all Harry was at fault was tactlessness with his opinions on your daughter’s appearance. Pansy, on the other hand, seems completely without manners. Who can say what morals surround her upbringing if there are any.”

“Mrs. Malfoy!”

“No Eliza, I am not done yet,” Mrs. Malfoy said, looking at Mrs. Parkinson. “Let’s look at this for a moment, shall we? Here we are, at a Christmas Party hosted by the Malfoys, a party which celebrates two things: One, the Christmas season and all of its jolly bringing’s, and two welcoming our new son Harry James Malfoy. Your daughter’s best thoughts on this night are to interrupt and insult Harry without even a proper introduction, and afterward call his birth mother, a woman who died protecting her child, a mudblood. Putting aside our views on muggles and muggleborns, to have my son’s first contact with that word come from Pansy as an insult? If it were not for it being Christmas, I would ask you all to leave right now. So instead I will ask that your daughter apologize immediately.”

“If she apologizes then so should Potter,” Mr. Parkinson said, “it is his fault that she cried.”

“Then perhaps find her better clothing,” Mrs. Malfoy suggested. “I’m afraid I have to agree on my son’s comments. Pink is not the right color for dear little Pansy. Perhaps try darker colors? It’s easy for someone to look pretty in black or grey.” The Parkinsons looked insulted. Mr. Parkinson’s face turned red. He looked as though he was about to scream, but his wife stopped him. “Apologize, Pansy,” she said.

“But mother—”

“Pansy, please,” Mrs. Parkinson said. “Apologize.”

Pansy glared at her mother and stomped her foot. “Fine! Sorry,” she said.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled. “Eliza, I look forward to seeing you during the weekend with the other mothers. Come along Harry,” she tapped Harry’s back and walked away with him. “Harry, you have to learn how to control that mouth of yours,” she said simply. “There is a saying that goes, ‘if you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all.’ However, I want you to remember this instead, understand? ‘If you don’t have something nice to say, find a way to say it with a smile.’ Do you understand what I’m trying to teach you?”

Harry thought for a moment, “You mean, say it like I’m trying to say something nice?” he asked.

“Exactly, good boy,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled, “how about we don’t mention this at all to your father, and in exchange during boxing day we go and find something good for you to wear in pink.”

“Okay!” Harry grinned. Mrs. Malfoy chuckled. She brought Harry back to his brother and friends and he quickly told them what happened as soon as she was gone. The rest of the night went quickly for Harry. He stayed with the kids the rest of the night, playing, and eating until almost nine when the kids were all forced to go to bed. Harry and Draco said goodbye to their friends and watched as one by one, they left with house-elves.

Harry tricked the house-elves again and cuddled with Draco in his bed. “This was the best Christmas I ever had,” Harry smiled. “I got presents and got new friends!”

Draco smiled and nodded, “Uh-huh! And I heard Blaise’s mother talking with mother! They get to come over again!” he said excitedly. The boys were giddy at the news that their friends could come over that they didn’t fall asleep for another two hours.

Well past midnight, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy walked into Draco’s room to see the two boys sleeping peacefully. Mrs. Malfoy chuckled, “It seems our house-elves are easily tricked,” she said.

“It’s fine,” Mr. Malfoy huffed, “They can have it tonight, but I expect Harry back in his own room tomorrow.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “He seems to have gotten along with the other children, too.”

“Speaking of, I noticed the Parkinsons looked a tad off-putting,” Mr. Malfoy said, “would you have anything to do about that, Narcissa?”

“Lucius, honestly, I have no idea what you are talking about,” Mrs. Malfoy chuckled. “We really should go to bed soon, I’m taking Harry shopping tomorrow, I promised him a reward for being a good Malfoy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry just really likes pink. Also as a fair warning, the next few chapters will be skipping a head a couple of years. We want to smoothly, but quickly, get these boys to Hogwarts!


	6. Godfathers

Chapter 6

Godfathers

Harry was now five years old. He was a very happy child with loving parents, the best big brother he could have (Draco’s words), and new friends who actually love to play with him. It was now the middle of August, and Harry was with Draco, Theo, and Daphne playing on the Malfoy grounds.

It was a very sunny day and they were playing catch, throwing a ball to each other as Draco and Theo were flying around on their toy brooms with Daphne and Harry running around. “Come on Harry! Throw it to me!” Draco said.

“No! No! To me!” Theo, who was farther away, yelled. Harry wanted to challenge himself. He inhaled and grunted loudly as he threw the ball with all his strength. It flew high into the air, soaring over Theo and Draco and away from the group of children. “Sorry!” Harry said, watching it fall to the ground. “I got it!”

Harry ran from them towards the ball. He was amazed at his strength the further he ran from his friends. The ball landed by a wall of shrubs that outlined the property line of the Manor. He picked up the ball and smiled. “I’m strong,” he chuckled to himself before turning to return to his friends, only to hear something.

It was strange? It sounded like a man’s groan, but Harry couldn’t be sure. He looked around and saw nothing. The groan came again, and Harry got both scared and curious. Behind him, he could hear his brother and friends yelling for him to come back. “One second!” he yelled and approached the shrubs cautiously.

The groaning continued and Harry thought for a moment that he should go and get his parents. However, the five-year-old quickly pushed that aside and stood in front of the shrubs. It was taller than him, so Harry had to jump several times to even get a glimpse of what was on the other side. It was grass, but there was also a blob of brown that scared Harry. He looked back and yelled, “Draco! I need your broom!”

His brother frowned and flew towards him, getting off his broom, “What?” he said, but Harry took the broomstick out of his hand. “HEY!”

“There’s something on the other side, I need to see it,” Harry said, getting on the broom.

“Harry! You’ll get in trouble—I’m telling mother you took my broom,” Draco said.

“Whatever, look we can get on together!” He moved forward on the broom, almost riding the tip as he patted behind him. Draco grumbled but got on with Harry, who moved back so that both were on and he could control the broom. With their combined weight, the toy broomstick moved slowly and jittered. But Harry was persistent and pulled up, making the broom move higher and higher until they could see over the shrubs.

The brown that Harry thought he saw was from a cloak. A cloak that was wrapped over a very frail-looking man. “There’s a person!” Harry gasped.

“He looks dead,” Draco said, “Let’s go back.”

“But—but—”

Harry felt conflicted for the first time. He looked between the man and Draco and sighed, “Okay, we’ll go back, and tell mum,” he said and before Draco could argue, Harry turned their broom and flew towards the manor, their friends yelling and running after them.

Harry jumped off of the broomstick as they reached the door and ran inside. “Harry!” Draco yelled, “come on!”

“Mum! Dad! Dobby!” Harry yelled out. The house-elf appeared immediately, bowing. “What can Dobby be doing for Master Harry?” the house-elf asked.

“I need my parents, we found a man outside the house,” Harry said, “he’s on the ground!”

Dobby squeaked and disappeared. A few moments later, Theo and Daphne caught up with them. “What’s going on?” Daphne asked.

“I found a guy outside!” Harry said.

“A guy? Harry be more specific,” Mr. Malfoy said, he and his wife appearing behind the two of them. Harry turned and quickly explained. Mr. Malfoy frowned, “Children, stay inside. Harry, come with me and your mother.” He snapped his fingers and two house-elves appeared. “Watch the children,” he ordered and walked out with Harry and his wife.

Harry led his parents to where he saw the man behind the shrubs. He pointed at it and the two adults looked over, frowning at the figure. “He looks unconscious,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Must have come in from the woods nearby.”

“Wait a moment, I think I recognize him,” Mrs. Malfoy frowned. She took out her wand and waved it. The man floated upwards and spun around, revealing his face. He has sandy blond hair and looked extremely haggard, wearing only tattered clothing. Mrs. Malfoy floated the man onto the properly and gently brought him to the ground. “He’s my cousin’s husband,” she said, her frown deepening. “Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin? How?” Mr. Malfoy frowned.

Harry looked at the adults and the man hesitantly. “Um, who is he?” he asked in a small voice.

His parents looked down at Harry, concerned, before looking back at the man. Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat and looked down at the man. “You must remember when the bad man, Dumbledore, came here looking for you?” he asked.

“Yeah, he was scary,” Harry nodded.

“We mentioned two men, who you were supposed to go to if something happened to the Potters,” Mr. Malfoy continued. “Sirius Black, who is your mother’s cousin, as well as his … husband, Remus Lupin.”

“Why didn’t I go to them? And why is he here now?” Harry asked, looking at the man. He felt odd, wondering why he went to the muggles instead of him and wondered what would have happened if he went to with this man instead. Would he love him like he loves his mum and dad? Would he like this Sirius Black person too? And what was that about husband? “Boys can have a husband?” he asked.

“We’ll answer your questions in a moment,” Mr. Malfoy said. He looked at his wife, “What should we do?”

“He looks as though he hasn’t eaten in months,” Mrs. Malfoy frowned, “He must have been walking all the way here.”

“And you know about the rumors and his monthly disappearances,” Mr. Malfoy said, “would he be safe here? With the children?”

“Honey, the full moon was yesterday,” Mrs. Malfoy said. She looked at him and smirked, “I have a small idea,” he said. “How would you like to discredit Dumbledore? He has been awfully silent since he showed up.”

“Unless Lupin was his plan,” Mr. Malfoy frowned. “Did he expect the man to just come here and kidnap Harry?”

“No, he most likely told the man some lies—we’ll secure him in one of our guest bedrooms, and ask him when he wakes up,” Mrs. Malfoy said. She snapped her fingers and two house-elves appeared. “Take this man to the guest room near our room, would you? And keep watch over him. We want to know the second he wakes up.”

“Umm, mum?” Harry said cautiously. “Is he another bad man?”

The Malfoys looked at themselves for a moment before Mrs. Malfoy shook her head, “No sweetie, he is not. Ah, look at your clothes! So dirty,” she said, distracting Harry. “How about you go and change your shirt before playing with your friends in Draco’s room? Afterward, I’ll answer any questions you have. And Harry, don’t tell your brother and friends about him.”

“Okay,” Harry said, smiling. He ran away as fast as he could, making the familiar path to his room and pulled out his pink shirt which still fitted him perfectly.

Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy retired to Mr. Malfoy’s study where drinks were waiting for them. “This is an unseen complication,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I never expected the old man to send _him_ after us. If it was Dumbledore who is behind this.”

“I cannot see how it isn’t,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “However our wards were supposed to repel any unwanted intruders.”

“I’ll look into that,” Mr. Malfoy promised. “In the meantime, what will we do about Lupin? He cannot stay here obviously.”

“I know, however, what else can we do? We cannot exactly leave him for dead, what if Harry asks questions about him?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“Do what all parents do and lie, obviously,” Mr. Malfoy shrugged.

Mrs. Malfoy gave her husband a hard look before shaking her head. “Anyway, we should wait and hear what he has to say.”

“Agreed,” Mr. Malfoy said.

Lupin slept for the rest of the afternoon. As he promised, Harry did not tell Draco, Theo, and Daphne about the man. Dinner came and during the middle of it, house-elves appeared looking frantic. “Master Lucius! Master Lucius!” one said. “He’s up!”

“Harry, Draco, go take your bath immediately after dinner,” Mr. Malfoy said. “If I see you two listening in, you are both grounded for a week. I will take away your brooms, and your friends won’t visit.”

“Okay father,” Draco said, he and Harry sharing a worried look. Whatever it was must be important.

The two adults followed the frantic house-elf to the guest bedroom where Remus Lupin still laid in the bed, looking on death’s doorstep. He groaned as he looked at the two Malfoys. He opened his mouth to try to talk but all that came out were hoarse gargles. “Give him some water for pity’s sake!” Mr. Malfoy barked. The house-elves all cowered and instantly a glass of water appeared. The elves helped Lupin sit up and drink the water. He coughed and violently cleared his throat. “Harry,” he said, his voice still a deathly rattle. “Where’s Harry?” he forced out.

“Taking a bath with his brother,” Mr. Malfoy answered. “What are you doing here, Lupin?”

Lupin took a few breaths which rattled in the back of his throat. “Brother?” he asked. The house-elf helped him take another drink of water.

“Yes, brother. His older brother, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Harry is our son, Lupin, you cannot do anything to steal him from us.”

“He’s not… a prisoner?” Lupin forced himself to say.

“A prisoner!” Mr. Malfoy said, sounding deeply insulted. “Lupin, how dare you even suggest that I would act even once like a warden and guard to my son!”

Lupin frowned. He shook his head and took another sip, coughing. His voice sounded a little less hoarse before he said, “Dumbledore told me… you were holding him prisoner. I know… I’m unfit to raise… but I thought…”

“Your worries are unwarranted,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Harry is happy and healthy here. In fact, it was he who found you mostly dead outside our property while he was playing with his friends.”

“He has friends? That’s good,” Lupin said slowly. He finished his glass of water only for it to refill itself. He smiled at that and took another sip. He was able to hold the glass by himself now, though his arms quaked instead of moving fluidly. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy waited until he was halfway done with his second glass before asking, “How did you even get here? We have protective wards.”

“I walked,” Lupin answered simply. “I walked for a week. But then the full moon…” he frowned and gone silent, drinking his water. “I collapsed in front of your home, and that was all I remembered.”

“Did you eat during this week?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“No… I was too worried about Harry,” Lupin admitted.

Mrs. Malfoy snapped her fingers at the house-elf. “Easy food for him to eat. Soup,” she specified. A house-elf jumped and disappeared with a crack. Lupin winced at that and frowned. “Why?” he asked.

“Because you are being fooled by Dumbledore, and you said so yourself, you are unfit to raise Harry,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “You are no threat to us, Remus Lupin. Especially after what your husband did to your best friends.”

Lupin frowned, his head falling as he stared at the glass of water. “Pettigrew,” he said.

“Yes, killing Pettigrew,” Mrs. Malfoy smirked.

Lupin looked up suddenly, shaking his head. “No—no, that did not happen,” he forced out.

“Oh? How surprisingly,” Mrs. Malfoy hummed.

“Narcissa, what are you talking about?” Mr. Malfoy asked, looking for the first time at a loss. His wife just chuckled and stepped forward, fixing Lupin’s hair with a hand as she said, “Oh Lucius, you and I both know that my cousin hated the Dark Lord.”

“Yes, and he killed Pettigrew, how does this matter? The man is still dead,” Mr. Malfoy said. Mrs. Malfoy laughed, sounding superior as she smirked at her husband.

“Is he? I mean his finger by now might be bones, but the rest of it,” she glanced at Lupin and leaned towards him, “Who do you think he scurried off to after that explosion?”

Lupin gasped. “You mean—”

“Rest and eat your soup,” Mrs. Malfoy said just as a house-elf appeared with a warm bowl. “Save your strength and just listen, both of you. This is the advantage of having frequent luncheons.” She looked around and saw an armchair in the corner of the room. She waved it and it floated to her, settling onto the floor just as she sat down. “To begin with, no, he did not come to me directly. He was looking for Rabastan and Rodolphus. I was merely there visiting them and my sister. This was around a month before they were arrested. The explosion that killed the twelve muggles just happened, it was the day after the Dark Lord disappeared and our son was made an orphan. A rat made its way into their home and I almost killed it with a blasting curse before, right before my eyes, it turned into a man. A pleading, quivering man.”

“Peter,” Lupin growled out.

“Yes, it was Peter Pettigrew,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded. “I’ll admit I was shocked, he looked to be in horrible shape, portly with balding lifeless hair, beady eyes, and a bleeding hand that was missing a finger. He was very rude and very impatient, driveling nonsense as he demanded to see my sister. Rabastan walked in, gave one look at the man, and yelled ‘this isn’t what the Dark Lord wanted you to do!’. Pettigrew turned into a rat right before my eyes, looking deathly scared and scurried away. I never saw him again. Rabastan and I talked afterward, and he revealed a very delightful little secret. Would you like to know what that is?”

“Obviously,” Mr. Malfoy drawled.

“My cousin was not the Potters’ Secret-keeper when they went into hiding. Pettigrew was,” Mrs. Malfoy said easily. “It was not my cousin who betrayed Harry’s birth parents, but the little rat who ran to the Dark Lord, crying for his own safety.”

“He betrayed us,” Lupin said weakly. “I couldn’t find him… looked for years. Sirius told me… the day they went into hiding. We thought—we thought that they would be safe.” His body shook, and tears pooled in his eyes.

The Malfoys looked at each other, Mr. Malfoy frowning while Mrs. Malfoy stayed neutral. Lupin shook his head and ate his soup slowly, looking at the two. “I tried telling Dumbledore this, but he wouldn’t listen,” he said. “He convinced me… that he was safe with the muggles, that you two kidnapped him.”

“And that is why you are here,” Mr. Malfoy sighed. “Instead of trying to steal our son himself, Dumbledore instead chose to use you, hoping that being his godson, you could convince Harry to go away from the ‘evil Malfoys.’ Am I correct?”

Lupin nodded, “Yes, that or if he had to live with wizards… it would be me. Even though I am… unfit,” he looked sad. “But I was worried, truly worried. This was the first time I knew where Harry lived. I had to know, for myself, that Harry was safe. ... Happy.”

“Well he is safe,” Mr. Malfoy said shortly. “He is much safer with us than he ever will be with those Muggles. Or even you and Black for that matter.”

“Lucius!” Mrs. Malfoy said harshly.

“I apologize for telling the truth,” Mr. Malfoy said, “however I would rather not have the likes of Lupin nor your cousin around to influence our son.”

Mrs. Malfoy glared at her husband. She looked back at Lupin and shook her head, “If you would excuse us,” she said kindly and then ordered the house-elves to keep Lupin comfortable. Mr. Malfoy followed his wife out of the room, looking irritated. “What is this about?” he demanded. “I told you I will not allow that man near our son!”

“He is harmless enough as it is,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “and Harry already knows about him obviously, and he will ask us questions.”

“To have a man of his lifestyle in our home? By our children! I’ll never allow it,” Mr. Malfoy declared. “What he and your cousin have is a shame on marriage.”

“So is that what this is about?” Mrs. Malfoy asked, shaking her head.

“Yes, it is,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I can barely stand to see him wearing pink, now how will it look if Harry starts acting like them?”

“You are being completely unreasonable,” Mrs. Malfoy said, shaking her head. She looked at the door behind them and frowned. “This could be another opportunity to both prove Dumbledore wrong as well as that we are far removed from the Dark Lord. Yes, you have your testimony however there are people who still question that. If we help prove a man’s innocence, then we will be furthered praised, not only by being good parents for Harry but by proving who it truly was that betrayed the Potters.”

“And how will you provide that? The rat has run away, he could be anywhere,” Mr. Malfoy demanded.

“We will simply submit our memories as evidence,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “I saw the man shift right in front of me, and I was at my sister’s for a social call. That along with everything that Remus knows will be more than enough to prove my cousin’s innocence, have the two of them in our debt, along with having another opportunity to have the Malfoy name praised.”

Mr. Malfoy did not look pleased, however, after a moment he nodded. “Fine, I’ll agree with that,” he said.

“Good, as for Harry’s questions, I will handle that,” Mrs. Malfoy smirked. She opened the door and went into the guest room again. Remus was still in bed, looking as weak as ever as he tried to eat. “We’ve decided to help you,” Mrs. Malfoy said sweetly. “With our testimonies and memories, along with certain friends,” she looked at Mr. Malfoy, “it will be easy for us to prove my cousin’s innocence.”

Lupin frowned, “I don’t think my word will be trusted,” he said. “I’m… unfit.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

Lupin sighed, looking completely tired and sorrowful. “I’m a werewolf,” he said.

“Well, then we will simply omit that information, they will be more concern about the illegal Animagus,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Isn’t that right, Lucius?”

“Indeed,” Mr. Malfoy said, “A werewolf is easy to keep track of compared to an illegal Animagus, who can be anything and we would not know.”

“Well there we are,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded. “Of course, we will do all of this after you rest up.”

“Will I see Harry?” Lupin asked, a blink of hopefulness shining through his sorrow.

“Absolutely n—”

“If he wants to,” Mrs. Malfoy said, glancing at Mr. Malfoy. “He was the one who found you, it’s only right that you two get one conversation.”

Lupin nodded and looked at himself. “Not now,” he said, “I’m—I want to look presentable.”

“Very well,” Mr. Malfoy said, however, he looked fully disappointed. He left the room. Mrs. Malfoy lingered for a moment and left.

Alone, Lupin finished eating and fell asleep immediately. He slept almost the whole day, waking up feeling weak but he couldn’t help but sense someone was looking at him. He opened his eyes hesitantly to see two small figures staring at him curiously. One was blond with silver hair, standing slightly taller than the raven-haired boy with emerald eyes blinking behind glasses. “Hello,” the boy said, “My name is Harry, this is my brother Draco.”

“Hello,” Lupin said, “do your parents know you’re here?”

“No,” Draco said. “Who are you?”

The man gave a soft smile. “My name is Remus, and Harry, I’m your godfather.”

Harry gasped, “I know you!” he said, “Mum mentioned you to the bad man!”

“The bad man?”

“Dumbledore,” Draco said carefully. “He wants to take my brother away!”

Lupin sighed and shook his head. “Dumbledore is… complicated,” he muttered, “however he was wrong to leave you with the muggles, Harry.”

“Where was I supposed to go?” Harry asked.

“With me and my husband, Sirius,” Lupin answered. “We were your parents’ best friends.”

“Husband? How can you have a husband? You’re a guy!” Harry said. “Dad told me that only girls have husbands!”

Lupin shook his head, “The world is more colorful than that boys,” he said. “Some boys love girls while other boys love boys, just as some girls love boys and some girls love other girls. Sirius and I loved each other, so we decided to get married.”

“Oh, I get it, mum and dad loves each other so they married, right?” Harry asked. He looked at Draco and smiled, “I love you so that means we can be husbands!”

“Yeah!” the five-year-old agreed.

Lupin laughed and smiled, “It doesn’t work like that boys, you cannot marry your sibling.”

“Then—we love playing with Blaise right?” Harry asked.

“We do,” Draco agreed slowly.

“Then we’ll marry him! We’ll be husbands forever and we’ll spend our lives playing,” Harry said with a seriousness that only a small child would understand. Lupin chuckled once more and smiled.

“I like your openness, Harry,” he said. “However, you boys should leave, I need to rest still, and your parents and I agreed that we shouldn’t see each other until I was stronger. Even this small talk is making me exhausted.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry said. “I’m sorry! We’ll talk later!” He turned to Draco and smiled, “Come on! We can go play husbands while he sleeps.”

“Okay, and we won’t tell our parents, Mr. Remus,” Draco said. The boys waved and left. Remus felt a little stronger and rested until house-elves came with food and water.

Days passed, the man growing stronger with each passing day, smiling whenever the two children sneak in to visit him. Three weeks past, and he felt strong enough to go with Mrs. Malfoy to submit their memories to the Ministry on Sirius’ innocence. They met with an Auror named Kingsley Shaklebolt who greeted Remus like an old friend. The Auror escorted the two to a private office to get their testimonies and memories.

Harry and Draco, meanwhile, were playing with Blaise Zabini at his home. The three were playing with toy wands when Harry pointed his wand in the air and drew shapes, followed by a heart. “I got it!” he said, smiling at the two of them. “Blaise! You’re going to be Draco and my husband when we grow up! That way we can play forever.”

“Okay,” Blaise laughed, “That’ll be great! But wait, mother told me that in order to be married, the man has to give the other person a ring.”

“Oh, I don’t have a ring,” Harry said, blushing. He looked thoughtful and looked around the room. “Umm can I give you something else?” he asked.

“How about we find rings later?” Draco suggested. “For now we’re all husbands!”

“Yeah!” Harry and Blaise agreed, and for the rest of the day, until Mr. Malfoy picked the two boys up, they played husband which included play dueling, flying on their toy broomsticks, and everything else the boys did normally. The only difference was that they kept calling each other ‘husband.’

At night, Harry smiled at Draco, he sneaked into Draco’s room and bed again. “Draco, hey Draco,” he whispered.

“What?”

“When we’re older, let’s be husbands for real,” he said. “You, me, and Blaise. It’ll be great!”

“Mm okay, just go to sleep,” Draco yawned, but Harry was too excited to sleep. He went into his bed and rolled around, smiling, and laughing to himself as he thought of him being older and being husbands with Draco and Blaise, the three playing forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus! You here! Hopefully this is the beginning of a beautiful and rich relationship between the boys and Remus Lupin. A relationship that we will only see glimpses of because We’re speeding these boys to Hogwarts by chapter 10. But then we’ll see it in full!  
> Edit: I have a question from me to you: originally this was going to be a Draco/Harry/Blaise. However I gotten another idea that would be interesting to act upon that would leave it be Blaise/Harry and something special happening for Draco. Which do you, the readers, prefer?


	7. Sirius Black

Chapter 7

Sirius Black

Mrs. Malfoy expected some amount of dramatics and attention to her cousin’s case; however she did not expect to see the Minister of Magic himself to become involved. She was sitting with her husband and Remus Lupin behind a simple desk as the head of the Auror Department and half of the Wizengamot and the Minister all stared down at them from their raised seats in the courtroom. There was a small group of Aurors sitting to the side, Kingsley Shaklebolt among them, as well as a reporter with a cameraman who was holding a large ancient camera. Both Malfoys were shocked to see that Professor Dumbledore was not present, seeing as how much he wanted to interfere with their lives. A dreadful silence filled the room as they waited for the session to begin. Mrs. Malfoy looked at the Wizengamot members, finding her friends easily. They gave her a subtle nod and look of encouragement.

A small male ran up to the Minister and whispered into his ear. The Minister stood up and cleared his throat, “Bring in the prisoner,” he said in a voice that is trying too hard to be authoritative. The door in the back opened and the three turned to see a man being brought in wearing shackles and flanked by Aurors. He looked gaunt, starved with long wild black shaggy hair. Wearing rags, Mrs. Malfoy did not recognize her cousin until he looked up at them, his eyes, emotionless and glossy, staring at them with only hints of emotions. Remus whimpered next to her, tears filling his own eyes as he tried his best to stay sitting. “Sirius,” he whispered.

The man looked at Remus and it took a few moments for recognition to finally break through his dazed look. “Remus,” he coughed in a wheezing voice. The Aurors on either side of him shook and pushed Sirius Black away from the three to a chair in the center, where he was chained. The Minister of Magic looked around, and stood up once more, clearing his throat. “We are here to reexamine the case of Sirius Black, and his ties to You-Know-Who as well as his connection with the deaths of James and Lily Potter along with the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles. This reexamination comes in light of new evidence submitted by both Remus Lupin and Narcissa Malfoy. We shall examine Mr. Lupin’s testimony first.”

He motioned Remus to stand, and he did so nervously. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and he cleared his throat. The Minister stared down at him and said, “You are Remus Lupin, correct?”

“Yes,” he said.

“And your relation with Mr. Black?”

“We are husbands,” Remus answered strongly.

The Minister muttered something under his breath before saying louder, “You have submitted into evidence, your testimony on what happened days before the deaths of James and Lily Potter, claiming that it was Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius Black who was chosen to be their Secret Keeper?”

“I have,” Remus nodded.

Kingsley Shaklebolt stepped forward from the small group of Aurors and said, “I’ve received and reviewed the memories and testimonies given by both Mr. Lupin and Mrs. Malfoy. There has been no tampering of any kind detected.”

The Minister nodded and muttered, “Okay,” he said. “Give your statement then, Mr. Lupin.”

Lupin nodded. “Right before our friends went into hiding, we were discussing who would be their Secret Keeper. Dumbledore was helping us with the enchantments, and it was originally going to be Sirius who would be chosen as James and Lily’s Secret-Keeper. However, at the last moment, Peter Pettigrew was chosen. Sirius and I talked about it the night that it happened. Two days later, Voldemort went to my friends’ home and killed them, and tried to kill Harry. Only Pettigrew knew where they were, and my husband and I thought that Pettigrew was kidnapped and interrogated, it was only recently that I’ve realized that he was a traitor.”

“And what brought you to this conclusion?” an official asked.

“Mrs. Malfoy’s testimony, she filled in holes that missed in my logic,” Remus said.

“This is the testimony of a Mr. Pettigrew allegedly appearing before her when she visited known Death Eaters Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband?”

“Yes.”

“And this is to be believed? And not a trick from the remaining followers of You-Know-Who?” the Minister asked, looking at Kingsley Shaklebolt.

“We have examined her memories using every method we have multiple times,” Shaklebolt said. “Everything there is legitimate with no tampering or lies.”

The Minister nodded, however, he still looked far from convinced as he glanced at Sirius. “However we must remember that we are dealing with a madman, a murderer,” he said to his fellow Wizengamot members. Sirius Black killed twelve muggles—”

“Excuse me, Minister,” one member said, standing up, “how can we be so sure when we have not even heard Mrs. Malfoy’s testimony? Or viewed any of the memories.”

“Yes, however, we know what we will see. Peter Pettigrew is dead, murdered by Sirius Black!” the Minister said.

“Then why are we here, if that is the truth?” the same member asked. “We are here because the Aurors have accepted new and convincing evidence regarding Black’s innocence. If it is true without a doubt that Pettigrew is dead by Black’s hand, then we would not be here. And even if we are here without a doubt, then it would just be a cruel and needless joke towards Sirius Black.”

“But look at him! He looks mad,” the Minister said.

“Then perhaps he should be in another prison that is not guarded by dementors,” Mr. Malfoy said, “if one existed.”

“Lucius—”

“Minister, must I remind you on how you came to be here?” Mr. Malfoy began. “You are here because of the sudden and heartbreaking loss of Minister Millicent Bagnold. You are simply here to finish out her term.”

The Minister flustered and glared at Mr. Malfoy. “Now you see here—”

“Minister, we are here to overturn Black’s ruling with new evidence that casts doubt on his conviction, true we do not have the rat Pettigrew in hand; however I am sure that you, in your full capability, would be able to track him before your term is up,” Mr. Malfoy continued. “I know that many of our friends here agree, that justice, true justice, must be held in the case of the murders of my dear son’s birth parents.”

“You mean Potter—yes, yes you are right,” the Minister muttered. “Fine. Mrs. Malfoy, if you would, give your testimony—and only the truth of it!”

“Of course, dear Minister,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled. She stood up gently and walked around the table to stand next to her cousin as she addressed the Wizengamot. “Hello cousin,” she smiled sweetly. “On the dreadful day after the loss of my precious son’s birth parents, I was at my sister’s home. As I have reported before just a few years ago in fact, I was completely ignorant of how cruel and heartless my sister and her husband were, and their loyalty to the dreadful and murderous He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.” She took a breath and collected herself as the camera flashed behind her, the only other sound was the reporter’s quill scribbling by itself. “It was half-past twelve and I was waiting alone for lunch. My sister was in the powder room and her husband was making sure that the house-elf was cooking correctly. Now their home was a clean home, their house-elf was an excellent cleaner, which was why it was terribly shocking to me when I saw a rat scurry into the home. I was so scared and so shocked that I almost blasted the animal away with a jinx! But before I could even point my wand at the rat, it turned into a man. A short, fat whimpering man whom we all known as Peter Pettigrew.”

“Ma’am are you suggesting that Peter Pettigrew is an Animagus?” the Minister interrupted.

“Suggesting? No, I am informing you,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “He was a small brown rat that was missing a finger on his front foot, which was the finger that remained in the blast.”

“But he is not registered on our List of Animagus!” the Minister said. “It is by law that every Animagus must register themselves to the Ministry with proper descriptions and markings.”

“Then he is an illegal Animagus,” Mrs. Malfoy said simply, “not an unusual concept I am sure. How else would a rat spy and betray friends than hiding as a rat?”

There was a murmur of agreement around the Minister. One man stood up, looking rather nervous,” Sir?”

“What is it Fudge?” the Minister demanded.

“It definitely is possible, sir, that Pettigrew is an illegal Animagus, it could be that um—the rumors, sir, about Black, might be actually referring to Pettigrew instead,” Fudge said. The Minister of Magic did not look happy. He waved Fudge away and turned to Mrs. Malfoy.

“Continue,” he said.

“Of course,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Pettigrew turned right in front of me and began babbling, holding his bleeding hand, and asking for my brother-in-law. He kept talking about muggles he killed, having to cut off his finger, and how it was all part of a plan. At the time I was more scared than anything, which is understandable. A stranger appears before you, his hand bleeding and missing a finger and demanding to see your brother-in-law. It was truly a horrid and frightful sight. I almost fainted, to be personally honest.” She paused, as if to collect herself from the awful memory, and shook her head. “I have to mention that this was also the day when I had my suspicions about my sister and the two Lestrange brothers, for right after Pettigrew demanded for either Rabastan or Rodolphus, he made a move to grab my clothes. I screamed, naturally, and that spurred Rabastan to appear as if from nowhere and push Pettigrew away. ‘This was not in the plan!’ he yelled out, and Pettigrew fled. I’m afraid that after all that excitement, I did faint. The next thing I knew, I was in my sister’s bed with her next to me.”

“What did you two discuss about?” the Minister demanded.

“Pettigrew. I asked her if she knew who he was, and she denied, telling me that her husband and Rabastan did not know either,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “I believed her because she was my sister. It was a foolish, ignorant belief that only siblings can truly take advantage of. I did not feel safe there, and so I asked if we could lunch in my home instead. She agreed and we left.”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, Minister, that is it,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded.

“Yes, good then…” The Minister continued, clearing his throat as though he was looking for what to do next. “We have the memories, of course, but still I do not see how this can prove Sirius Black’s innocence.”

“It is rather obvious, I feel, that in our haste to do justice, we’ve overlooked key details,” said one of Mrs. Malfoy’s friends. “With both of their testimonies, as well as their memories, we do not even need Pettigrew in this room to cast doubt on Sirius Black’s conviction. Narcissa Malfoy’s memory, in particular, will give us a detailed account of Pettigrew in his Animagus form, so that we can start a proper search of him.”

“And if we do not find Pettigrew? Then what? We let a murderer free?” The Minister demanded.

“Minister, can I speak?” a hoarse voice gotten their attention. Sitting chained to the chair, Sirius Black looked more like a convict ready to be executed than on trial. “It’s true, I wanted to kill the rat after he betrayed my friends, however, I didn’t have the chance. As I said before—it was Peter who caused the explosion. He did so after cutting off his own finger.”

The Minister ignored Black. He looked around, clearly annoyed, and shook his head. “Enough of this. I don’t need to see the memories to know that all of this is hogwash. Unregistered Animagus, husbands, all of it is hogwash!” He grabbed his gavel and looked around. “Those in favor of keeping the dangerous Criminal Sirius Black in Azkaban,” he stated, raising his hand. Fudge was next to raise his hand, as well as only a handful of other Wizengamot members. He looked defeated as he looked around. “Those against keeping Sirius Black in Azkaban,” he said almost fearfully. Mrs. Malfoy’s friends raised their hands immediately, along with the rest of the members. The Minister sighed and said reluctantly, “Very well, in light of new evidence, Sirius Black you are cleared of all charges and declared innocent in the murders of the twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew, as well as conspiracy against the government and the Potters’ death.” He banged his gavel and Remus stood up instantly.

He felt lighter, happier as he rushed towards Sirius, pulling the taller man into a hug as his chains disappeared. “How?” Sirius asked. “How?”

“We have Harry to thank,” Remus smiled. “Oh god, I’m so happy to have you back! Come along!”

“Perhaps, before my cousin meets his godson, a proper bath and shave are in order,” Mrs. Malfoy said, she and her husband reaching them. Sirius stiffened at her voice and stood up. He watched her with a stony expression. “Hello, cousin,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“Narcissa, why are you here?” Sirius demanded. “What is going on?”

“Harry is going on,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “After your little heroic gesture, Harry was sent off to live with his muggle relatives who mistreated him awfully. Then, last year, he came into our family and has been our son ever since. It was he, actually, who found your Remus just on the edge of our property when he was playing with his brother and friends.”

“So Harry’s with you?” Sirius muttered. “I want to see him.”

“In your state? No,” Mr. Malfoy said. “You would scare my son. However,” he glanced at his wife, “Narcissa and I will allow you two to live with us temporarily until you find your own stability and lodgings. However, I only have one condition: That when you leave, you do not dare to even think of taking my son with you.”

“Harry is my godson,” Sirius started angrily, “He should have been with me in the first place!”

“Yes, if you did not try and failed to go on a murderous rampage,” Mr. Malfoy sneered.

“Keep this up Malfoy, and you’ll see how murderous I can be,” Sirius growled. Lupin stood between them and pushed Sirius gently away.

“Sirius, calm down, this is our own chance of seeing Harry,” he said. He turned and talked with Mrs. Malfoy, “We’ll agree, only if you allow Harry to visit us once we find a home.”

“Of course, I would never dream of completely cutting off your relationship, and neither would Lucius,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“As long as Black remember whose son, Harry is now,” Mr. Malfoy said, giving Sirius a hard look. Sirius returned the glare.

“Fine,” Sirius said shortly.

“Excellent, now then Remus, if you would go with my cousin to reclaim his property, we can leave this place, and then you can show him where the baths are at home,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled.

“Home,” Sirius whispered. “Is Harry there?”

“No, he and Draco are currently at the Greengrass’s estate. They are having their lessons there with Mr. Willow for today since we are here for this trial,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Mr. Willow?”

“Harry’s teacher,” Remus answered. “He is teaching Harry everything he knows.”

“He is a rather effective tutor and is with Harry and Draco every weekday afternoon for the past year or so,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “He will be continuing to teach them until they go to Hogwarts.”

“Ah.”

The four left the courtroom, Sirius stopping as the doors close to stretch and take in a deep breath. He hugged and kissed Remus once more and the two went get his possessions. Mr. Malfoy watched with obvious disgust. “They better not influence Harry,” he sneered.

Mrs. Malfoy just huffed and crossed her arms, “We need to talk about this,” she said, “but not today, today’s all about my cousin and Harry.”

“You want him to meet Black today?” Mr. Malfoy demanded.

“They are living with us, so yes,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “or were you hoping to hide the two of them from Harry and Draco until they moved out?”

“I was hoping for a quiet life, but now I see that is not possible,” Mr. Malfoy muttered. Mrs. Malfoy just giggled at that.

The two men returned a moment later, and the four made their way back to Malfoy Manor. Sirius Black walked boldly through the Ministry of Magic with the same reporter from the courtroom chasing after them. “Mr. Black! Mr. Black! A word, please! How do you feel about your recent release and newfound innocence?”

“I feel wonderful!” Sirius said, sounding giddy, “I am so happy to be freed.”

“And what about the revelation of Peter Pettigrew? How do you respond to that and any misgivings that you were the one who betrayed the Potters?”

Sirius stopped. He turned around and stared at the reporter, his eyes looking hollow and miserable. “I would never betray my best friends like that,” he whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing… I thought I was an obvious target for Voldemort… I never thought in a million years that Pettigrew would be the traitor. Even Dumbledore—” he shook his head and held himself as he found his body shaking. “Even Dumbledore thought that I did it, that I betrayed Lily and James!”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Heartbroken,” Sirius said in a low tone.

“That is enough questions,” Mr. Malfoy said. “As you see, he is still experiencing the effects of being imprisoned in Azkaban. Goodbye.” He turned and walked away, half dragging Sirius with him. “Black you are an idiot,” he hissed. “You are making my life worse.”

“Shut up Malfoy, I want to see my godson,” Sirius muttered.

Mr. Malfoy sneered but said nothing. The four of them left the Ministry using floo powder. Once safe in Malfoy Manor, Remus led Sirius away, the two of them holding hands. Alone with her husband, Mrs. Malfoy sighed, “The world is changing, we can’t stick to old traditions,” she said.

“I can try,” Mr. Malfoy muttered. “As long as they are under my roof, I will tolerate them. However, I will not allow them to influence my sons.”

“You cannot influence that, Lucius, even my mother knows you’re born that way,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Anyway, while the two men are making themselves presentable, I’ll be picking up our sons. I expect their session with Mr. Willow should be over soon, and I have to return this lovely book to Deana anyway.”

“You’re leaving me with them?” Mr. Malfoy asked.

“Only for a little while, besides, they will most likely take a very long shower,” Mrs. Malfoy said, covering her mouth as she chuckled. “You do not need to deal with them at all, however, it might be good if you put up a silencing spell in your office just in case.” She kissed her husband’s cheek and waved, “I will see you soon,” she said, stepping into the fireplace once more and disappeared in green fire.

Harry and Draco did not see their new guests until two hours after they returned home. Harry was very excited, having heard tales of Sirius from Remus during his secret visits. He was practically vibrating with excitement as he and Draco waited in one of the smaller living rooms. Draco, meanwhile, was standing still, doing his best to look and act cool. The door to the room opened and two men walked in. One was Remus, looking healthier and practically glowing in his new set of clothes. Next to him was a taller man with shaggy black hair and short, neatly trimmed facial hair. He smiled immediately when he saw Harry, his eyes shimmering with tears. Behind them, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were watching carefully.

“Hello Harry,” the man said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m Sirius. I’m so happy to finally see you again.” He got to his knee and held his arms open for a hug. Harry’s excitement turned into a chilling fear as he stared at the man. He couldn’t move, his legs feeling frozen.

“Hello,” he said meekly. “I’m Harry, and Remus said that you’re my godfather.”

“I am, I am your godfather,” Sirius nodded.

“Then why? Why did you let the bad man take me to live with the muggles?” Harry asked.

“Oh Harry,” Sirius said, tears falling from his eyes. “I wanted to take you home, I wanted to raise you with Remus just as your parents wanted, I really did. But I did something stupid, terribly stupid, and I couldn’t see you until today.”

“Father says that you’re a murderer,” Draco said.

Sirius frowned. “I’m not, but I almost became one. I was so angry and grief-stricken that I went after the person who betrayed your parents instead of looking for you.”

“So you’re not a murderer?” Draco asked.

“No, I never killed anyone,” Sirius said. Harry looked at Sirius once more before looking at Remus, then Draco. Draco gave a nod and Harry ran. He knocked into Sirius’s chest, the two of them crying as Sirius’s arms wrapped around the small five-year-old, the two crying. “I missed you, Harry, oh how I missed you.” He sniffled, “I remember—I remember when you just turned one! You were a small baby zipping around on a small broomstick. You gave your cat hell on that.”

“I had a cat?”

“Of course you did! Fluffy big thing, it was Lily’s pet,” Sirius smiled. “He bothered James whenever he had a chance.” Harry giggled at that he looked up at Sirius and asked, “Are you going to leave again?”

“Never, I’m never leaving you again Harry,” Sirius said, holding him tight. “Never,” he promised in a whisper. “Remus and I, we’re going to stay, right here for a while until we have a home of our own—but then you and your brother can visit whenever you want, how does that sound?”

“I would like that,” Draco muttered.

“Me too,” Harry nodded. He didn’t want to let go of Sirius, yet he also wanted his brother with him too. He looked back at Draco and held out a hand. Draco walked automatically and grabbed it, Harry pulling him in so that he was part of the hug too. Harry smiled contently and looked at the people around him. “Perfect,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And like that, Harry’s childhood became perfect. Next time we’re starting to age up as, before we know it, Hogwarts is just around the corner. As for any pairings and such, as you can see, I've decided on Hary/Blaise being the main pair with Harry and Draco's relationship as siblings being a major focus. As for what will happen with Draco, I already just gave a hint.


	8. Growing Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of Caution, a character uses the F-- word a couple of times in this chapter. So if needed, be ready to brace yourself for it.

Chapter 8

Growing up

Harry was now seven, and he finally felt like he had a handle on his life. Or at least, as much of a handle on life that any seven year old could have. He was still the shortest of his friends, but he did not matter about that at all. He thought that it added to his cuteness factor, and it made pink and blue, his new favorite color, look brilliant on him. He also learned very quickly that cuteness can be used to get things. It didn’t happen on purpose at first. He was with his brother when they were six, hanging out with Sirius and Remus. He wanted some extra snacks, but Sirius said no, so he turned to Remus and gave him a pitiful look, pouting out his lower lip and holding his hands as he asked in a sweet voice. Remus caved, causing Sirius to laugh when he saw Harry’s cute face, saying, “Harry! That’s not fair, with a face like that nobody could say no to you!”

“They can’t?” Harry asked, causing Sirius to laugh louder. It wasn’t until he was back home and telling the story to his parents, and he understood what Sirius meant when Mrs. Malfoy explained.

“Do you remember what I told you when you met your friends at the Yule party?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

Harry thought for a moment before nodding, “You told me that when you have nothing nice to say, make it sound nice.”

“More or less, yes,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded. “When Sirius said that you have a face that people can’t say no to, he means that you are simply very cute, which is typical for kids your age. However I have to agree with him Harry, you are particularly cuter than any of your friends, and I am not saying this as your mother.”

“It is something you will hopefully grow out of as you get older and mature,” Mr. Malfoy muttered. “We wouldn’t want you growing up to become a pretty boy.”

Mrs. Malfoy sighed and shook her head, “What your father means, is that like how you can use your sweetness and kindness to your advantage, you can also use cuteness, and as you grow up, hopefully, it will turn into a charm that you will use as a well-mannered sophisticated gentleman.”

“So… I can use my face to get what I want if I do the right look?” Harry asked.

“Yes, however, don’t you dare use it on us,” Mr. Malfoy warned, “and when you are older, we obviously will have to discuss talk about consent with girls—”

“Lucius! The boy’s only six! All he cares about is play and cookies,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

Harry gasped, “I just remembered! I promised Draco I would play a new game with him! Can I go now?”

“See?” Mrs. Malfoy said, chuckling. “Go on, Harry.”

A year has passed since then and Harry honed his craft, practicing faces during bath time and before bed. He was able to get Parkinson to be quiet and give him her cookies, Daphne to share a shirt he really liked, mostly because it was pink, and Blaise’s mom to allow Blaise to sleepover (and even sleep in his room with Draco!). Surprisingly enough, the only person unaffected by his look was Theo who just stared at him blankly and said, “Would you like try asking again?” But it didn’t matter in the end, Harry rather liked that Theo didn’t fall for his charm, it gave him something to build to.

Which brought him to today, at age seven, almost eight as it was July. He was with all of his friends, Blaise, Theo, Daphne, and Pansy as well as his brother, obviously. It was a beautiful day outside, so they were gathered around the lake as they lazed about, talking about what to do and anything that was on their mind. Theo looked at them and then at the lake, “It’s weird,” he said, “in only a few years we’ll be in Hogwarts! It felt so far away when we first met.”

“That was only two years ago, don’t act like my dad already!” Harry smiled. “He’s always talking about how like time’s moving faster.”

Blaise gasped and smirked at Harry, “Don’t worry! Before we know it, we’ll be in Hogwarts, go through it and afterward we’ll be husbands,” He gave a teasing smile and stuck his tongue out. Harry and Draco laughed immediately, remembering their promise, while Daphne and Theo laughed after a second.

“We would be good husbands, and we’ll still play all day,” Harry said. “What do husbands play anyway?” he added thoughtfully.

“I heard mother saying that Sirius and Remus apparently play loudly at night,” Draco said. “Before they moved to their house a couple of months ago, I heard mother complaining about how their ‘roughhousing’ kept her and father up some nights.”

“So being husbands means playing very loudly?” Harry asked. He grinned and looked at Blaise, “Let’s be husbands!”

“Yeah!” Blaise agreed and immediately rolled to Harry so that they were next to each other, Blaise practically on top of the pretty boy. “Best husbands! Draco come on!”

Pansy stood up and sneered at them, crossing her arms, “You’re all disgusting!” She pointed at Harry and said angrily, “First! You’re a boy! You can’t wear pink! I keep telling you this! And second, boys becoming husbands is GROSS!” she screamed the last word at the top of her lungs. “Boys are not supposed to marry boys, you idiots! Boys marry girls! Boys who marry boys are call fags, that’s what my Dad told me!”

Harry stood up immediately, frowning. “You’re wrong,” he said. “Remus and Sirius are married!”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded, standing as well. “Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus are married.”

“And they’re GROSS!” Pansy screamed once more. “Mother and Father told me so.”

“Your parents are wrong, they’re not gross,” Draco said heatedly.

“They’re fags! And if you’re like them then you’re a fag too!”

“That’s a horrible word,” Theo said, the others now also standing in a sort of circle, enclosing Harry, and Draco with Pansy. “My mother told me about how it’s a slur, a bad word.”

“You’re calling my godfathers a bad word!” Harry said, enraged. “Why do we even invite you to things?” he demanded, throwing his hands up. “Nobody gets along with you!”

“Daphne does, and Theo and Blaise—it’s you two weirdos who don’t get along with me,” Pansy said. “I think it’s because of those poofs! That’s another bad word to describe your gross godfathers, _Potter_.”

Harry saw red. He took a step forward and gave his best sneer, “My name is Harry Malfoy,” he said, “however maybe you would know that if you actually listened to everyone around you instead of the voices in your head.” He turned and walked away.

“Harry! Where are you going?” Blaise asked, running after him.

“I’m going to tell mum all about the wonderful things Pansy said,” Harry said simply. “I’m sure her parents will be so pleased that she took their lessons to heart!”

“DON’T YOU DARE POTTER!” Pansy screamed at the top of her volume, but Harry already started running.

His mother was in her favorite room during the summer, the sunroom, where the walls were made of windows. She was with Mrs. Zabini and Mrs. Nott, the three talking ambiently. Harry smiled innocently and looked at the three women. “Mrs. Zabini! I love your new dress,” he said politely, and “Mrs. Nott, I really like your new robes.”

“Oh what a charmer,” Mrs. Zabini chuckled. “Narcissa, I didn’t know you were raising such a gentleman.”

“Only when he wants something, what is it, Harry?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“I want to tell you something very important,” Harry said. “I don’t want Pansy Parkinson to be here any longer, she insulted Blaise and me and Remus and Sirius.”

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Malfoy frowned, “what do you mean, Harry?”

“Blaise said that after we graduate Hogwarts we can be husbands and play forever and as loudly as we can. Pansy yelled that we were being gross and wrong, saying that boys can only marry girls and then she called Remus and Sirius gross as well as a bad word that she called me as well! And then she called me Potter. All she does is being mean to me and I don’t want to be friends with her anymore,” Harry said.

“What word did she use?” Mrs. Malfoy asked carefully.

Harry grew suddenly quiet. He moved nervously and glanced around the room. “I don’t want to say it,” he said sheepishly. “It’s a bad word.”

“It’s okay Harry,” Mrs. Nott said, “you’re not saying it just to say it, you’re saying it so that your mother can fully understand what is going on.”

“So it won’t count?” Harry asked innocently, turning to Mrs. Nott.

“It won’t count,” Mrs. Nott chuckled.

Harry nodded and turned to Mrs. Malfoy. “Fag,” he said shortly. “Mum, why are people so mean to Sirius and Remus?”

Mrs. Malfoy frowned, “That’s a question I think my cousin and his husband should answer,” she said. “There are some people who just don’t like how others are different.”

“Oh,” Harry said sadly, He frowned, “What are you going to do with Pansy?” he asked. The door to the sunroom opened, the others finally catching up. Pansy’s clothes looked a mess, covered in dirt and her hair out of place. She was breathing heavily and yelled out, “They all attacked me!”

“We did not! You fell and roll around on the ground,” Blaise said.

“We were just chasing you to keep away from Harry,” Daphne said. “You fell by the garden and crushed a couple of flowers.”

“That’s not true! You made me trip! Potter’s telling lies,” she said, looking at the adults. The three women frowned, Mrs. Zabini and Mrs. Nott looking towards Mrs. Malfoy.

“Harry, I think you and your friends should go back outside and play. Pansy, if we can have a word with you,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “Your parents will be here to speak as well.”

Harry smiled sweetly as he saw Pansy’s face fall. He walked past her, and stopped before looking back, “I think the dirt actually looks good on you,” he said, “gives you a more earthy and natural look.” He smiled and waved as he left the sunroom.

They did not see Pansy for the rest of the day. The five of them played happily for the rest of the day, Theo, Blaise, and Daphne all leaving around five in the afternoon. Mrs. Malfoy walked Harry and Draco into their home and looked at the both of them. “I’ve talked with my cousin, and we are going to their home so the four of you can have a serious conversation,” she said. “You two heard nasty things today, and your father and I agree that it would be better if you hear about it and talk it out with Sirius and Remus. So go clean yourselves up, you’re both awfully sweaty, and then we’ll go.”

The two nodded and went to take a quick bath, meeting their mother in the floo powder room. Sirius and Remus lived in a small cottage right outside of the nearby town, so that they could be close to Draco and Harry. It was a quaint cottage with a stone basement that Remus uses monthly during the full moon, he already had a serious conversation about his little hairy problem with the boys, that was thankfully soundproof. It was two stories, and Harry and Draco had their own bedroom there furnished for whenever they come sleepover. The home only had one fireplace in the main living room, which the three Malfoys appeared in. Remus was laying across a couch opposite the fireplace, a book in hand. He looked at them and smiled, “This is a surprise, how are you, boys?”

“We were hoping that you and my cousin could have a talk with my sons,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“About what?”

“About why some people who think you two are gross, as well as the f-word,” Mrs. Malfoy said, sounding disappointed. “One of their friends just insulted Harry, as well as you two, calling the three of you the particular word.”

“Oh, I see,” Remus sighed. “Draco, Harry, come with me to my room, Sirius is in there.”

Mrs. Malfoy moved to a nearby bookshelf and started to browse the books, “Take your time,” she said, “I can entertain myself.” Remus nodded and looked at the boys, “Come on.”

Harry and Draco followed Remus out of the living room to a small hallway that had a staircase on the left side. They climbed the stairs and came to another hallway that led to four doors. Remus led them to the door immediately in front of them. It was a large bedroom with an expansive bed along with dressers and two wardrobes and two mirrors. The dressers’ top was filled with pictures and small knickknacks. Sirius was sitting at a desk in front of a window, bent over slightly. Harry ran up to him and surprised him with a hug, “Hello,” Harry said, his eyes moving to the desk. Sirius had a book open before him, and he was holding a quill. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Writing in my journal,” Sirius said, “or diary as Remus calls it.” He chuckled. “I’ve been doing this since I started Hogwarts. It’s a nice way to keep my thoughts together.”

“Ohh,” Harry said, looking at the journal interested.

“Sirius, Harry, and Draco are here to have a serious talk,” Remus said. Sirius frowned.

“What happened?” he asked. Harry and Draco moved to sit on their bed while Remus moved to stand next to his husband, who stayed in his seat. Harry told the story, recounting everything that happened with Blaise and Pansy. As he told his story, he noticed that Sirius and Remus looked sad, and it hurt his heart as he felt that it was as sadness deeper than anything he could properly describe. When he was done, Harry looked at Remus and Sirius, “Why did Pansy act so rude and hateful towards you?” he asked. “You didn’t do anything to her.”

“It’s more complicated than that Harry,” Remus sighed. “Sirius and I, there’s a word that describes our feelings and love towards one another. We’re gay, meaning that we love people who are the same gender. You know about gender, right?”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded. “Harry and I are boys, just like Parkinson and Daphne are girls.”

“Exactly, those are the two genders,” Remus nodded, “Well mostly. There are people who live outside the two genders, but we can talk about that another time. Right now, just know that a gay person is a person who loves people who are the same gender. There’s another word for us, homosexual, but let’s keep to gay for simplicity.”

“Our love is just as real as anyone else’s,” Sirius said, “however there are people who don’t see it that way. These people are full of hate and are vile, big meanies like those who don’t like some other witches or wizards just because they are different, like being half-blood like you Harry, or muggleborn like your birth mother, Lily. It’s the same thing that happens when these people hate that men can love men, women can love women, and people can live happy lives outside the neat boxes they thought life was.”

“Pansy’s one of those people, along with her parents,” Draco said bitterly. “She said bad words to my little brother!”

“Yes, unfortunately, they are,” Sirius nodded, “and we’re lucky in that they’re so open with their hatred. It’s easier to cut them out, keep their hatred out of our lives.”

“Why not argue?” Harry asked.

“With some people, it’s impossible to change their minds, Harry,” Remus said, looking at the small boy sympathetically. “When Sirius and I married, my parents basically kicked me out, and forbade me to never speak with them again.”

“But that’s awful! They’re your parents!” Draco said, “They’re supposed to love you!”

“And they did, they loved a version of me that simply didn’t exist,” Remus said. “They thought I would marry a woman, but when it became obvious that I was Sirius’s, and Sirius was mine, they couldn’t believe it, and refused to understand it. So they just kicked me out.”

“Just like how my dear old mother, may she burn in the horrible place, kicked me from the family because I did not live up to her own ideals of me,” Sirius said. Harry and Draco frowned, and Harry grabbed Draco’s hand.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if Mum or Dad hates me,” Harry said sadly.

“Me neither, but we’ll love each other forever, right Harry?” Draco asked.

“Right! You’re my big brother,” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I am,” Draco said, puffing out his chest.

Harry smiled and turned to Sirius and Remus, “So… would it be okay if Blaise and I marry and be husbands like you two?” he asked.

Sirius grinned, “If that’s how you truly feel when you are older, I don’t see why not,” he said.

“Then we’ll all be husbands,” Harry said. “Blaise, Draco, and me!” The adults looked at each other. Remus looked worried and was about to say something, but Sirius shook his head, smiling.

“They’re kids, they’ll learn,” he whispered.

“So what am I supposed to do if someone calls Harry that word again?” Draco asked. “Or if they insult my brother because he loves pink?”

“Well, what did you do when Pansy said those terrible things?” Remus asked.

“Nothing,” Draco frowned. “I wanted to yell at her and protect Harry but—I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well, do what you felt like doing,” Remus said. “You were on the right track with protecting Harry. You’re the big brother Draco, remember that. It’s your job to look out for Harry, just as it’s Harry’s job to look out for you.”

“We already look out for each other!” Draco said, looking a little happier.

“Then you’re doing a great job already,” Remus smiled. “You two are great brothers.”

“We are,” Harry agreed. “The best brothers!”

“Good! Now, do you have any more questions, boys?” Sirius asked. Harry gave a thoughtful look while Draco hummed, frowning slightly. They looked at each other, seeing their thoughtful looks, then back at the adults. Draco nodded and said, “How did you know that you liked boys?”

“Oh, that,” Sirius said. “It’s different for everyone. We didn’t start dating until we were sixteen, however, I knew that I was different since I was twelve but couldn’t name it until I was fifteen. And even before then, I was denying it.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“It’s scary, figuring out that you’re different from everyone else,” Sirius said. “I’m happy for it, and I wouldn’t change anything about myself, however, the initial discovery can be troublesome, especially because you just feel this great sense of isolation. That you’re fully alone.”

“But you’re never alone,” Remus said. “There are hundreds of people just like you, boys who like boys just like you, so while it’ll be difficult at times, you’re never truly alone. Eventually, you’ll find others like you, you’ll befriend them and, hopefully, might fall in love with one of them.”

“Is that what happened with you two?” Harry asked.

“We’ve been friends since first year, but yeah,” Sirius grinned. “We figured out that we both liked boys and, after talking about it we decided to give us as a couple a go. We’ve been together ever since.”

“Did you have to face any bad things?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, and it was scary, I’m not going to lie to you Harry, but our love was stronger than it,” Sirius said. “We had people bullying us because of who we are, but we stuck through it. Also, your father was a great help. James was supportive whenever he could. He even was our best man.” He smiled.

“Wow,” Harry whispered. “Can I be good and supportive like him?”

“You already are Harry, don’t worry—ah! Have you ever saw our wedding pictures?” Sirius asked.

“No, we haven’t,” Draco said.

“Be a dear and go get them please?” Sirius asked Remus, “you’re already standing.”

“Lazy dog,” Remus said, slapping Sirius’ shoulder playfully. He left the room only to return not even a minute later with a book. “Your mother must be getting a little bored waiting, so we’ll just show you one picture,” Remus said, flipping through the book. “Ah!”

He turned the book towards the boys and pointed to one of the pictures. It was a colored picture showing four young adults smiling at the camera. Harry recognized Sirius and Remus right away. They were both wearing suits and holding hands, smiling brightly as they held up their held hands, showing off wedding rings. Next to them were Harry’s parents, James, and Lily. Harry felt strange looking at them. They were familiar to him, and not just because he’s seen them before. He felt like he knew them as if he could concentrate he could almost hear his mother’s soft laugh or his father’s loud, happy voice. “They look beautiful,” Harry said.

“Yeah, they were,” Sirius said softly.

Harry jumped when he felt a finger under his eyes. It felt wet and he blinked, looking at Draco. “You’re crying,” Draco said simply.

“Oh.” Harry looked up at Sirius and Remus and said, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be Harry,” Remus said. He closed the book and Harry wished he hasn’t. “Come on, let’s bring you home. You don’t want to miss dinner, do you?”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. Remus used his wand to produce a handkerchief and cleaned Harry’s face before magicking the handkerchief away. “No need for tears now,” Remus smiled. “Come along boys.”

They left with Remus and returned to their mother. “Everything sorted?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“Yes,” Remus nodded.

“They told us a lot,” Draco said. “And Pansy was wrong for being mean to Harry and Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius like that!”

“Uh-huh, Pansy was just being bad-minded because she couldn’t understand that boys can love each other like how Remus and Sirius love each other,” Harry nodded.

“Good,” Mrs. Malfoy nodded, “well, say goodbye then.”

Harry and Draco hugged Remus goodbye and screamed their goodbyes to Sirius who screamed his farewell. Mrs. Malfoy made a disapproving noise, “Honestly what is he doing?” he muttered.

“Writing in his diary,” Harry said, “He told me that he writes in it every day since Hogwarts!”

Mrs. Malfoy chuckled, highly amused by that. “That is good to know,” she smiled sweetly. “Well then, goodbye Remus.” Remus watched them leave and Harry found himself lying on his bed after dinner, thinking about everything that’s going on. His heart felt weird, and he turned to his side as he thought about Draco and Blaise. He wondered how they would feel when they were older. Would they be like Sirius and Remus? Would he too feel alone like they did? Or would they not be like Sirius and Remus and can’t become husbands? It hurt his head thinking about it all, however, one thing was clear to the young boy. No matter what, he was determined never to become hateful like Pansy and people like her and her family. Sirius and Remus, their love was normal to Harry, he couldn’t see anything strange or abnormal in it. It was just them being adults and married, husbands, just like how Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were married. There was no real difference in Harry’s eyes, just love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to Hogwarts, we have to wonder what will happen, especially when they meet new people and, god forbid, puberty happens!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Repentance

Harry Malfoy was now eleven years old, in fact, today was his birthday! He was excited for his birthday especially because now he could expect his Hogwarts letter very soon. But before that, he and his brother Draco were in Draco’s room, lazing about. Draco looked at Harry, with a strange sort of look, “Hey Harry,” he said, “do you feel different?”

“Different how?” Harry asked. “I mean, I’m really excited for us to get our Hogwarts Letters.”

“Yeah, everything’s going to change because of Hogwarts but like, do you feel different now that you’re eleven?” Draco asked.

Harry hummed and thought for a moment, “I’m still very cute, and I still love the color pink,” he began, looking down at his own pink robes that he was wearing. They were a faded, subtle pink. “I feel essentially the same but, uh it’s going to be weird that Mr. Willow isn’t going to teach us anymore.”

Draco gasped, “I didn’t even think of that!” he said. The taller boy frowned, and shook his head, “We’re never going to see him again!”

“No, we’re not,” Harry frowned. He felt sadden but Draco smiled, “Harry, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Can I wear one of your robes for today?” Draco asked, “It might fit me.” The smaller brother grinned, and he jumped up into the air, “YES!” he said excitedly. The two rushed to Harry’s room and opened his wardrobe where all of his robes were hanging in various colors. They were more varied and much more brightly colored than Draco’s robes, which all were darker shades of black, green, or blue. Draco stared at the selection, and for a moment he just stood there. “Draco? Are you okay?” Harry asked, worried.

Draco snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and blushed slightly, “Sorry, uhm I’ll try this one,” Draco said, pulling a light purple robe. Harry smiled at that and helped Draco change. The blond stood in front of a mirror and smiled at his reflection. The light-colored robe drastically contrasted his other clothes, which were on the darker shades of black and blue. “I’m jealous,” Draco admitted, “that you can wear these colors.”

Harry smiled and stood next to his brother, “It’s nothing special, I’m just used to wearing my colors,” he smiled. He took off his own robes and put on Draco’s, smiling at the dark colors as the robe brushed against his ankles. “I can wear dark colors, just like you can wear pretty ones,” he smiled. Draco nodded, smiling at Harry.

A house-elf appeared behind them and Harry jumped, “Masters Draco and Harry are expected to be in the sunroom by Masters Lucius and Mistress Narcissa,” the house-elf said.

Harry smiled, “Thank you Blinky,” he said. The house-elf bowed and disappeared.

“How do you remember their names?” Draco asked.

“It’s easy,” Harry shrugged. “Come on!”

Harry and Draco did not bother switching robes, running their way down to the sunroom where their parents waited with Remus and Sirius. Mr. Malfoy saw Draco and frowned immediately, “Take that off,” he snapped.

Harry’s heart hurt and he looked at his brother. Draco looked conflicted and hung his head in shame. Harry immediately stepped between them and said, “This is Draco’s birthday present! He wanted to try on one of my robes so that’s his present to me.”

“Harry, that makes no sense. Draco take off your brother’s robe immediately,” Mr. Malfoy snapped.

“But dad, just for today, please?” Harry begged. “It’s his birthday gift to me!”

“Come on Lucy, the boys’ are eleven, let them have this day,” Sirius snickered.

“I do not want to hear your opinions on my sons, Black,” Mr. Malfoy said. He sighed and shook his head. “Boys, Mr. Willow is waiting outside. He had some final presents for the two of you.”

Harry and Draco immediately smiled and rushed out of the sunroom to step onto the patio where Mr. Willow was waiting. He was now older, looking a man of early forties. “Hello boys,” said. “Just wanted to give you two a quick visit.” He held his arms open and Harry and Draco immediately ran to meet him, hugging the older man. “So, are you two ready for Hogwarts?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” Draco nodded.

“We didn’t get our letters yet though,” Harry frowned.

“Well, I’m positive that you will get them today,” Mr. Willow smiled. “Families need at least a month’s notice. I bet your letters are on their way as we speak. Anyway boys, I just came to say happy birthday to both of you, and good luck on Hogwarts. Eight years went by too fast.” He smiled at the two of them and ruffled their hair. “You two were so much fun to tutor.”

“We’re not going to see you anymore Mr. Willow?” Harry asked, pouting his lip as he looked at the man sadly.

“No, this is it,” Mr. Willow said, giving Harry a sad smile. “We all have to move on someday. I have many more young boys and girls to tutor, and you two have a fantastic seven-year adventure in Hogwarts ahead of you! So don’t cry Harry, the best is yet to come.”

“But I’ll miss you!” Harry said. Mr. Willow smiled ruefully at that.

“And I’ll miss you two too, but that’s just how it goes,” the man said. He hugged them both one last time before smiling at them, “Come on, I have to say goodbye to your parents.”

Harry sniffled but nodded while Draco walked stoically, as though he was afraid to show any emotion. The three reentered the sunroom to find everyone exactly as Harry and Draco left them. Mr. Willow smiled politely at the four of them. “Well, this is goodbye,” he said. “Harry and Draco were fantastic students! I’ll be very sad to see them go.”

“Thank you for everything you have done, Mr. Willow,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“Yes, thank you for tutoring our boys,” Mr. Malfoy said, “I am sure that they are more than fully prepared because of you.” Mr. Willow shook his hand, followed by Mrs. Malfoy. He turned to Sirius and Remus and shook their hands as well.

“Thanks for teaching my godson, teach,” Sirius grinned, “I’m sure Harry will be just fine acing all of his tests at Hogwarts, eh Harry?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed.

Mr. Willow laughed and smiled, “Well he will certainly charm everywhere there with his fashion sense,” he said goodheartedly. “So long everyone, happy lives Harry, Draco.” He gave them all a final bow and Harry saw Mr. Willow leave for the last time.

He did not have any time to feel sad about it, however, as not even half an hour later, there was knocking on the door. Harry and Draco followed their father to the front door as the knocking continued. “Who would dare come announced and interrupt my son’s birthday?” Mr. Malfoy asked rudely. “Open the doors!” The two front doors opened by themselves, revealing Albus Dumbledore. He was holding two letters and stood a little bashfully. “May I come in?” he asked.

“Why are you asking? The last time you were here, you barged in,” Mr. Malfoy drawled.

“I come with a rare apology, an old man realizing his mistakes, as well as your sons’ Hogwarts letters,” Dumbledore said, holding up the two letters. Harry heard walking behind him and turned to see his mother has joined them, along with Sirius and Remus. “Ah good,” Dumbledore smiled, “everyone is present.”

“Dumbledore, what is this about?” Mr. Malfoy demanded once more.

“I have told you, I am here to apologize,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I did not lie to you all when I said that my concerns are with Harry’s upbringing. I feared, unrightfully it seems, that this environment will be bad for Harry. That where he needed to be was with family, his family, the Dursleys.”

“Even though he was supposed to come with us,” Sirius muttered.

Dumbledore frowned. “During that time, I did not know who to trust. As well as the fact that I, along with the rest of the wizarding world, have thought you a murderer, Sirius.” Sirius frowned at that and looked around awkwardly.

“I guess I did do the wrong thing in going after Pettigrew immediately,” he muttered.

Dumbledore nodded and turned to Remus, “As well as because of your unfortunate condition, Remus, I am sorry to say that I feared leaving Harry solely in your care.”

Remus frowned but said, “I understand.”

“And now you see how at the time I was only left with Lily’s sister, Petunia Dursley,” Dumbledore said. “I wanted Harry to have a normal childhood, to live a life without any pain, suffering, or expectations from the wizarding world as we healed and move on from Lord Voldemort.” Remus and Mrs. Malfoy jumped slightly at the name. Harry frowned, before realizing that Dumbledore was talking about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. “When I have learned that Harry has been taken from the Dursleys, naturally I was frightened and worried for the poor boy, especially when I have learned that it was you two who adopted him. After our last encounter, I’ve become busy both with Hogwarts as well as tracking Remus down. I was hoping, in part, that Remus would convince Harry to go home, that it would be safer with the Dursleys. And so I waited and waited until months passed with no word. Then I saw that you, Sirius, was freed, cleared of a crime that I convinced myself you’ve done! I have figured, at once, that this must have been Harry’s influence over the Malfoys, which they both excused as an opportunity to make themselves look good. So I waited, hoping that I would hear no shocking news, no new developments. Your tutor, Mr. Willow, is actually an acquaintance of mine. We talked about your development, Harry, and I was relieved to hear that you were growing to be a fine, kind young man. And now, I am happy to stand here today and see that he was right. And with that, I would ask that you especially Harry, would forgive an old man’s unjustified anxiety.”

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a long moment. The young boy did not sense anything bad from the old man. He was tall with long silver hair and beard, yes, but he also wore a periwinkle robe that looked like a robe that Harry owns. That, along with his sorrowful expression made Harry nod. He took a step forward and held his hand out, “I’m sorry I only knew you as the bad man growing up,” he said honestly.

“So now what?” Mr. Malfoy demanded, staring at Dumbledore with mistrust. “Do you now want a role in Harry’s life?”

“Mr. Malfoy, the only role I’ll possess is as Harry’s Headmaster during his stay in Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, his tone shifting as he gave Mr. Malfoy an equally hard stare. He held up the two letters and said, “I told you that I am here for two reasons.” He turned to Harry and Draco, “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy,” he said. “It is my honor to say that you both have been accepted to attend Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here are your acceptance letters, as well as your school list and your tickets to the Hogwarts express. I look forward to seeing you both on September the first.”

Dumbledore handed Harry and Draco their letters. Harry looked at his letter and couldn’t help but smile brilliantly as he read the address as it was addressed to _Harry James Potter-Malfoy._

Dumbledore stood for a second longer before nodding his head at the adults, “Good day,” he said.

“Good day, Dumbledore,” Mrs. Malfoy said politely, and Dumbledore left. Harry and Draco opened their letters excitedly and grinned at their parents.

“Our letters!” Draco said.

“Look!”

“We see,” Mr. Malfoy said. He looked irritated as he glared at the now-closed front door. “It is still late morning; we might as well go and buy their supplies today.”

“Excellent!” Sirius grinned, “I had to go there anyway. I have a surprise for you during dinner, Harry,” he winked.

“This is an immediate family affair,” Mr. Malfoy said. He pulled out a pocket watch and made a noise. “However, I have a meeting with the new Minister soon,” he said. “Narcissa, will you?”

“I will take the boys shopping, do not worry,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“Good,” Mr. Malfoy said. He glanced at Sirius and Remus for a moment but said nothing. He walked away with a scowl. Sirius just grinned and winked at Harry and Draco.

“Well, it would not be going along with the boys if we just conveniently leave from our homes, say ten minutes from now to give Lucy a bit of a head start to the Ministry?” he said.

“I suppose,” Mrs. Malfoy muttered.

“Excellent, then I’ll see you later boys,” Sirius grinned. Remus just sighed and shook his head, following his husband.

Just as Sirius suggested, Harry, Draco, and Mrs. Malfoy left for Diagon Alley ten minutes later, both boys holding their school supply lists tightly in their fists. They switched robes once more, Harry once again wearing his light-colored robes. The three used Floo Powder and soon Harry was on the cobblestone pathway of Diagon Alley, looking at it amazed with a new lens as now he was there to shop for Hogwarts. He did not even take two steps before he spotted Sirius and Remus. Sirius gave a large, surprised gasp and walked up to them.

“What a surprise! Remus look, it’s Draco, Harry, and my cousin!” Sirius said.

“You’re sleeping on the sofa tonight,” Remus muttered. He looked at the boys and asked, “Where do you want to go first, boys?”

“Wands!” They both yelled at the same time. The adults chuckled and Sirius looked around. “Then we better go to Ollivanders, there’s no place better.”

Sirius led the way as Harry and Draco followed closely. They went to an old-looking shop whose paint faded long ago and started to strip off of the wood. Sirius opened the door for Harry and Draco, the two boys and their mother walking in. “We’ll meet up afterward, there’s something that Remus and I need to get,” Sirius said before he closed the door.

It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair that Mrs. Malfoy sat in after using her wand to magic dust off of it. Thousands of tiny boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling against the wall. For some reason, the back of Harry’s neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Harry and Draco jumped. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

“Hello,” Harry said awkwardly.

“Ah yes,” said the man. “Yes, yes, I thought I’d be seeing you the two of you soon, Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy.” Harry immediately frowned at the man getting his name wrong. “You have your mother’s eyes, Harry. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were here buying their first wands.” Ollivander was at the immense collection of wands, waving her fingers as he looked at the wands. “Ah!” he said, pulling out a couple of boxes. He brought them to the counter where Harry and Draco walked up to. “Mr. Potter first, I believe,” Ollivander said, opening the box and pulling out a wand. “Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches,” Ollivander said as he handed the wand to Harry.

Harry stood with the wand for a moment. “Give it a wave,” Ollivander said. Harry did, and boxes on the ball wall all flung out, cluttering against each other as they fell on the floor. “Apparently not,” Ollivander said as Harry carefully placed the wand back. He looked around the shop, “Ah!” he said, running to a wheeled-ladder. He climbed it and pulled out another box with another wand in it. “Perhaps, this?” he said. Harry waved the wand, almost immediately, the seat that Mrs. Malfoy was sitting on broke. Ollivander snatched the wand immediately. “No, no, definitely not! No matter…”

Ollivander wandered to the back of the shop and stopped in front of a certain black box. He pulled it out gingerly and stared at it. “I wonder…” he muttered; Harry barely able to hear him. The old man returned to Harry and opened the box. He walked carefully to Harry and held out the wand. “Holly and phoenix feather,” he muttered more to himself than the two boys.

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though magic was swirling around him. He barely needed to raise his wand to properly fix the broken chair.

“Curious… very curious,” Ollivander said.

“I’m sorry, but what’s curious?” Harry asked.

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather—just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother … gave you that scar,” Ollivander said, pointing to Harry’s forehead. Harry swallowed heavily as he felt a weight on his shoulders. “Yes, thirteen inches. Yew. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It’s not always clear why, but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible, yes, but great.”

Harry shivered. He went to his mother and stood by her as Draco waited for his wand. Both mother and son shared worried frowns, glancing at each other, and never needing to utter a word about it. Compared to Harry, Draco’s procedure was far quicker. He got his wand on the second try, hawthorn wood with a unicorn core, ten inches long, and after paying the three left.

Their moods brightened with the sunlight and Draco smiled at Harry, “We have our wands!” he said, holding out his own wand.

“And you will keep them in your pockets,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “We have much more to buy—what is my cousin holding?” she frowned as she saw Sirius walking up to them holding a cage proudly. In the cage was a beautiful snowy white owl who hooted softly. “Happy birthday Harry,” Sirius grinned. “I know that Hogwarts has their own owls, but where is the fun and care when you can use your very own?”

“An owl! You brought Harry an _owl_ for his birthday?” Mrs. Malfoy demanded.

“She’s useful,” Remus said. “besides, we have gotten Draco his eagle owl for his birthday. It was only natural that Harry gets his own too.”

Mrs. Malfoy frowned, but she knew it was a fruitless battle when she saw her son’s eyes as Harry gazed at the owl. “She’s so pretty,” he said, smiling at Sirius, “Thank you!” Mrs. Malfoy sighed and shook her head.

“Fine, then we’ll stop by the owlery to get extra supplies for her,” she said. “Come along, it’s on the way to Madam Malkin’s.”

Harry and Draco were fitted for their school robes as Madam Malkin talked to them. They both got the standard package for their school robes, and Harry begged his mother to buy two more robes on top of them, one in bright blue and another in a slight pink that he “wanted to grow into.” Mrs. Malfoy agreed and as they walked out, Harry smiled as he gave the bag with the two robes to Draco. “Happy birthday,” he whispered.

During their entire trip, Harry couldn’t help but notice that he got strange looks from the adults they passed by. Some had to look back at him to make sure that they were seeing him correctly. Harry felt uncomfortable and frowned as he looked down at his robes. “People keep staring at me,” he said.

Remus frowned and looked around before looking down at Harry. While the other wizards were wearing bright and colorful robes and outfits, Harry was the only male who was wearing pink. He looked at Sirius and Narcissa, who came to the same conclusion.

“It’s nothing to worry about Harry, dear,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled. “Come along, we only have one more stop, Flourish and Blotts.”

They went to the bookshop and Mrs. Malfoy took Harry and Draco’s shopping lists to make sure that she gets the correct books. Draco moved around with her while Harry broke off, deciding to wander about the bookstore. There were many different books with many different subjects that boggled Harry’s mind. There were singing books as well as books that taught you to sing, as well as books with long spells and enchantments that Harry did not know how to begin pronouncing it. He wandered along the long side of the wall, looking at books much too old for him until he came to a stop. There was a small round table with several black books neatly stacked as though almost forgotten about. Harry walked up to them and picked one up. He opened it and frowned when he saw that the pages were empty. “Why would they sell an empty book?” Harry said aloud.

“That’s a journal, Harry,” Sirius said from behind Harry. The boy jumped and turned around. “A diary, you know what I have.”

“So this is what it looks like?” Harry asked.

“It does,” Sirius chuckled. “Some people use a regular notebook, but others use a special book that was specifically made to become a journal.”

“Ohh,” Harry said. He stared at the black cover and smiled. “I want to write a diary!” he said, “You write in it every day right?”

“Yeah, you do, or try to,” Sirius nodded.

“What do you write about?” Harry asked.

“Thoughts, feelings, what happened throughout the day,” Sirius shrugged. “Just a way to chronicle your life.”

“Woah,” Harry said, looking amazed. “I’m going to ask mum if I can buy this.” He ran excitedly towards his mother, leaving Sirius alone. The older man just hummed and looked at the diaries, taking a couple for himself for whenever he eventually reaches the end of his current one. Mrs. Malfoy did not even argue about Harry’s extra purchase, saying only that it would be fair if Draco too gets to pick an extra book. The boys looked around together, and they picked the latest version of Quidditch Through the Ages.

With everything purchased, the Malfoys along with Sirius and Remus finally returned home.

_This is my first entry in my first diary! Or journal, I don’t know what to call you yet. My name is Harry Malfoy, and I am eleven years old. Today I got my Hogwarts letter and went shopping with my brother, mother, and Remus and Sirius! After I got my wand, Sirius surprised me with a very beautiful owl! Now I have an owl like Draco! Draco named his owl Apollo while I decided to call my owl Hedwig, a name I found while looking through my school books. I think she likes it, or at least she definitely liked the owl treats I fed her. Dad was mad when he saw her, saying mean things about Sirius but Mum and I were able to calm him down. It helps that I’m still considered ‘very cute.’ I’m hoping to keep this for as long as I can. At the end of August, Draco and I are leaving for Hogwarts and I’m very excited for it. I just know that he and I are going to be sorted into Slytherin. Until then, we have the whole month to hang out and play with our friends. I’m still sad that Mr. Willow left, but now Draco and I are really beginning Hogwarts and like Mr. Willow said, I feel like I’m at the beginning of a grand adventure! That’s all I can really think about to write. I started writing this because Sirius did, and who knows, it might help me somehow. What if I forget how much I missed Mr. Willow? Or about how much I love pretty things? Either way, I don’t know what else to write, so goodbye._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank John Hurt for the Ollivanders scene. Uhhh it is amazing how intelligent he was as an actor, performing the entire scene off the top of his head and adding to the lore of Harry Potter, which as we all know has been written by Sora from Kingdom Hearts for his boyfriend Riku.


	10. The Sorting Hat

Chapter 10

The Sorting Hat

The first of September came rather quickly for Harry and his brother. The two spent their final month before Hogwarts the same as any other month, hanging around with their friends. The only difference was that they talked more about what they were going to do and see once they are in Hogwarts.

Harry woke up early on the sunny September day, and found himself running around his room, making sure he had everything packed. Over the years, his shelves and even furniture changed to reflect his growing interests. Gone were his stuffed animals from when he was a little boy, all packed away in the basement, Mrs. Malfoy promised. In their place, were books, fictional tales of witches and wizards going on grand adventures both fictional, as well as nonfictional (although Harry will admit he found those books a little boring), along with older toys and pictures of him and his friends. Currently, Harry was packing clothes into his trunk, deciding on which colors from his never-ending rainbow of robes to bring along with him to Hogwarts. He just finished putting away a dark blue robe when he heard something behind him. He turned to see that a couple of his books fell off of their shelves, and something was moving underneath them.

Frowning, Harry approached the books. “Hello?” he asked.

 _“Hello, can you help? I’m a little stuck.”_ Came a voice from underneath his books. Harry made a noise and quickly lifted a couple to see a small snake with poisonous green scales struggling. Its tale was currently being crushed by the heaviest book that Harry owned.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Harry said, looking at the snake, “Are you okay?”

 _“No, a book is crushing my tail!”_ the snake grumbled. _“Some wrinkling thing brought me in here to eat rats and now I am stuck under a book!”_

Harry looked at the snake sadly and made a noise, “I’m sorry, don’t bite me I’m taking it off,” he said. Harry bent down and picked up the book. As soon as it was high enough, the snake darted away, curling around itself as Harry pushed the book back onto the shelf where it belonged with the others. The snake huffed and looked at Harry. It hissed annoyed before slithering away. Harry watched it for a moment before realizing what happened. “I found a talking snake! I have to tell Draco,” He grinned.

He made sure that his books were all secure on his bookshelf then ran across the hall into Draco’s room where the blond was still sleeping. “Wake up Draco! I found a talking snake,” Harry said with childish excitement, as though he was five once more.

“Go away Harry, I need beauty sleep,” Draco muttered sleepily. Harry, however, did not take that for an answer. He grabbed Draco’s blankets and pulled them roughly off of his brother. Draco yelled at the sudden coldness. “Harry!” He yelled angrily, glaring at him. “What the heck!?”

“I saw a talking snake, I wanted to tell you about it,” Harry said, flinching slightly at Draco’s glare. Draco’s glare turned into a tired look.

“There’s no such thing as a talking snake Harry,” He yawned. “It was probably just a dream.”

“No it wasn’t!” Harry said stubbornly. “My books fell on the snake and I had to save it! The house-elves got it so that it can take care of the mice!”

“We have no mice Harry,” Draco yawned again. “He sat up fully and rubbed his eyes. “But fine, I’m up now. Happy?”

“Not really because you’re being a prat about not believing me,” Harry said, pouting slightly.

Draco sighed and shook his head, “Fine Harry, I believe you,” he said. “Look, let’s just get dressed alright? Father will kill us if we’re even close to late for the Hogwarts Express.”

Harry nodded and went back to his room. He dressed simply, deciding on wearing a dark purple robes for the day. He smiled as he walked out, Draco already waiting for him in the hallway. “Come on you,” Draco said, and the two went for breakfast. Their parents were already in the private dining room, Mr. Malfoy reading the Daily Prophet. He barely looked at the two as Harry and Draco too their seats. “You’re both late,” he said.

“Draco didn’t want to wake up,” Harry said.

“You were sleeping too!” Draco said, “Harry had a dream where he was talking to a snake.”

“That’s nice boys, we’re leaving in an hour,” Mr. Malfoy said, fully distracted by the paper. Mrs. Malfoy, however, smiled at the two.

“How are you boys feeling?” she asked. “Today’s a big day.”

“I’m excited,” Harry grinned.

“Same here,” Draco said. “I know we’ll both in Slytherin.”

“It’s only natural,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled. “The Malfoys have been in Slytherin for generations. Now, Harry, there will be a lot more people in Hogwarts, and some people might not like your… bright fashion sense,” she began.

“Not that he will be wearing it,” Mr. Malfoy muttered. “You will get points deducted if you are out of uniform.”

“Yes but there are weekends,” Mrs. Malfoy said, giving her husband a look. “Anyway, we are not going to be there obviously to tell you how to dress, Harry, however if you do choose your preferred colors, just be ready in case some others don’t see how charming it is to see you in them.”

“Okay, mum,” Harry nodded. Mrs. Malfoy hummed approvingly, and Harry’s sense of clothing was left at that. Although, he turned to Draco and grinned, leaning towards him and whispered, “First weekend we’re wearing our pink robes!” he winked at Draco who just nodded.

When breakfast was done, both boys were sent to their rooms to make sure everything was packed. House-elves helped them, and once they made sure that they had everything, the trunks closed and locked themselves, the house-elves teleporting them to the floo powder room. “There is an entrance in Muggle London,” Mr. Malfoy said, “however, we are obviously above that,” Mr. Malfoy said. He took a silver container and opened it. “We are going to Platform Nine and three quarters,” he said. “I shall head there first.” He took a fistful of the green powder into his gloved hand and handed the container to Mrs. Malfoy. He went to the fireplace and stand in it. “Platform Nine and three quarters,” he said clearly and threw the powder down. Mr. Malfoy disappeared in green fire.

“Harry, you’re next,” Mrs. Malfoy said once the fire died down. Harry took powder from the container and moved to the fireplace. “Platform nine and three quarters!” he called out and green fire engulfed him. Like always, Harry kept his eyes shut until he felt his feet land on solid ground. He stepped out as he opened them once more and gasped.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Harry saw his father standing expectantly a little ways from the fireplace. Harry stepped away and waited silently for a moment later, Draco walked through, followed by their mother. Mr. Malfoy checked his pocket watch and grumbled. “Twelve past ten,” he muttered.

“We came here with plenty of time,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled. The family walked down the station with Harry and Draco looking around.

“Where’s Uncle Sirius?” Draco frowned.

“It appears he and Lupin could not make it,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Such a shame.”

“Oh Lucy, we knew you cared,” a voice smiled. Harry and Draco grinned as they saw Sirius and Remus walking near them. The boys rushed to hug them while Mr. Malfoy looked on, annoyed. “Luckily, we were here for half an hour,” Sirius continued. “Actually ran into a couple old friends of ours, the time went away very quickly.”

“Oh? How fortunate,” Mr. Malfoy scowled. “Now boys, have a good term, don’t get into any trouble,” he said, looking at his sons. “Don’t forget to write to your mother, and we’ll see you during Christmas.”

“Have fun boys,” Sirius grinned, ruffling their hair. “Get good grades, but don’t be too much like stiff upper lips, eh?”

“Don’t worry father, we’ll behave ourselves,” Draco said, Harry nodding along. Mr. Malfoy just stared at them.

“Fine then, say goodbye to your mother,” he commanded.

“So unemotional,” Mrs. Malfoy sighed, “come here boys.” She hugged both of them and fixed Harry’s ruffled hair. “But we are serious, behave boys. Both of you.”

“Bye mum, I’ll miss you,” Harry said.

“Goodbye mother.”

The two stepped away from their mother and looked at Mr. Malfoy who stayed still, holding his walking stick with both hands. He just nodded at them. Sirius and Remus both hugged them, and with final goodbyes, Harry and Draco were pushing their trunks down, looking for an empty compartment. They found one near the back of the train. They’ve put their owls in first before starting to shove and heave Harry’s trunk towards the train door. It was too heavy for the both of them.

“Do you need any help?” Two red headed older boys who looked like twins walked up to them.

“Please,” Harry smiled.

“Come on Fred!” one of them called out. With the twins’ help, both Harry and Draco’s trunks were at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

“Thanks,” Harry and Draco said, Harry swiping his sweaty hair out of the way.

“What’s that?” said the twin called Fred, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.

“Blimey,” said the other. “Are you—?”

“He is! Aren’t you?”

“What?” Draco said defensibly, standing between the twins and his brother.

“Harry Potter!”

“Uh yeah, but my last name’s Malfoy,” Harry said.

The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train’s open door.

“Fred! George! Are you there?”

“Coming, mum!” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train.

Harry and Draco sat down, with Harry sitting next to the window. “I wonder where Blaise and the others are,” Harry said, looking out at the crowds looking for their friends. He saw the twins return to a gang of red-headed family and hummed. “Draco?”

“Huh? What? Oh, I don’t know,” Draco shrugged.

“Oh, I was going to ask if you remember what dad said about the family with red hair? You remember? We saw a man with red hair once when we visited dad at work,” Harry said.

“Weasley,” Draco said immediately. “Father says they’re ‘second-handed hand-me-down wizards who are not worth even an ounce of time that they take up.’”

“Oh,” Harry frowned, “but those two boys seemed nice,” Harry smiled.

“They did,” Draco nodded. “Which is why Uncle Remus told us ‘never take everything our father says about other families to heart.’”

“Except the Parkinsons, because Pansy’s horrible, with horrible clothes,” Harry said, “And the Zabinis, because Blaise is still the best,” he grinned.

Draco grinned as well and nodded. He leaned over Harry to look out the window and made a noise, “I’ll go look for Blaise and Daphne, see if they’re on the train yet,” he said. “Knowing Theo, he’ll just come to us.”

“He tends to do that,” Harry nodded. He stretched and pushed Draco away, “Go on,” he said.

“Pushy little brother,” Draco muttered, but left. Harry just grinned and laughed softly to himself before looking out the window once more. As expected, not five minutes passed until he caught sight of Theo, who made a straight line towards the back of the train without even looking around. When he reached the window that Harry was looking out, he just looked up at it and said, “Are you going to sit around looking like a pretty damsel Harry, or are you going to help me?”

Together, the two pulled Theo’s trunk up and it joined Harry’s and Draco’s. The boys sat down, and Theo looked around. “I’m guessing Draco is off looking for Blaise and Daphne?” he asked.

“Yeah—how did you guess?” Harry asked.

“Because I just do,” Theo said. “So how was the rest of your summer, Harry?” Harry grinned and told Theo about his summer as well as the snake that he helped this morning. However, like Draco, Theo did not believe him. “Why would house-elves bring a snake in to deal with mice?” he asked. “They would have just magicked it away.”

“I don’t know, maybe the saw the snake and thought it was hungry,” Harry frowned. “But it’s real! I did speak to it!”

“Sure, Harry,” Theo hummed. The pre-teen frowned and just huffed, shaking his head as the compartment door opened. Draco walked in, followed by Daphne and Blaise as well as two more. Harry jumped up to hug Blaise and Daphne, pulling Daphne to sit next to him, while he regarded the other two.

They were both boys looking on the heavier sides of things. Their hair were short and their pudgy faces both had a simple look about them as they just stood around, silently. “Harry, you remember Crabbe and Goyle, correct?” Draco asked.

Harry stared at them for a moment. “Uh sure,” he just said, not really remembering them. He looked at the two boys and for a moment were reminded about a story about baby trolls.

“They don’t have anywhere to sit, so they’re staying here,” Draco said, leaving nothing up for discussion. Harry shrugged, not really caring. He smiled at the two boys, making sure to look as cute as possible. “Hello,” he said, “it’s nice to meet you two again. I’m Harry.”

The two boys only glanced at him. “Vincent,” one grunted.

“Gregory,” the other said.

Theo sighed and shook his head, “Vincent Crabbe and Greggory Goyle,” he said for clarification. Harry smiled and turned to Daphne, “Did I tell you about the new robes I got? They sparkle!”

“No,” Daphne said, and the two started talking robes and clothes in general before joining the others, mainly Theo, Draco, and Blaise, in talking about wider topics. Before Harry knew it, the train was pulling out of the station. Every now and again, Harry would look outside the window to watch the changing scenery. London quickly turned into towns, which made way to the countryside as they continued to travel north. A woman pushing a trolley came along during some part in the afternoon, and the children brought snacks ranging from Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, and Chocolate Frogs, a very popular snack that Harry liked more for the chocolate than the cards. However, Blaise lets the cards a lot. “Which ones did you get Harry?” he asked.

“Dumbledore, Nicolas Flamel—and Morgana,” Harry said, looking up at his friend.

“Oh! I need Morgana! I’ll trade you uh, a pumpkin pastry for it,” Blaise grinned.

“Okay,” Harry said, trading the card for the treat. He looked at the two cards he had and hummed. He never really read them, so he now took the time and made an interested noise, “Did you guys know that Dumbledore worked with Nicolas Flamel?” he asked.

“Yes,” Theo said but the others shook their head. Theo sighed and said, “All I know is that the two worked on alchemy together.”

The group just made a noise before moving on. Half an hour later, a girl knocked on the compartment door. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. “Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one,” she said.

“No,” Draco said shortly.

Harry glared at him before giving the girl a sweet smile, “No we haven’t, sorry,” he said politely. The girl looked around before closing the compartment door. Goyle spoke for the first time in a while, muttering, “Mudblood.”

“HEY! Don’t say that,” Harry snapped, glaring at him.

“He’s right,” Draco said, “Harry’s birth mother was a muggleborn, you don’t say that Goyle!”

The boy just shrugged and looked around, only to see hard faces looking at him disapprovingly. A silence followed that only was broken awkwardly as time moved on. The five of them largely ignored Crabbe and Goyle for the rest of the ride, Harry reminding them to change as it was starting to get dark outside, the lanterns in the compartment turning on by themselves. Soon enough, the train started to slow down, and Harry felt very nervous all of a sudden. He found that his only relief was that everyone else looked equally as nervous. When the train slowed to a stop, Harry jumped up and quickly grabbed Draco’s hand, squeezing hard. His brother winced but held Harry’s hand just as tightly. The group filtered out of their compartment, joining the crowd on a tiny dark platform. It was cold and Harry shivered as he saw a lantern came bobbing over the heads of students, followed by a booming voice yelling, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”

They followed the voice to see a giant man standing around with a big hairy face and beard. “C’mon follow me—any more firs’ years? Mind yer step now! Firs’ years follow me!”

The man led the first years down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side that Harry thought they were going through some thick trees. Nobody spoke much, not that Harry wanted to. He kept his hand firmly in Draco’s as they rounded a corner and then there was a chorus of “Oooooooh!”

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, is windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. “No more’n four to a boat!” the man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and his friends glanced at each other before Blaise and Daphne joined the two in one boat, with Theo going into another with Crabbe and Goyle, as well as Parkinson, whom Harry fully forgotten about if he was being honest.

Once everyone was in, the fleet of boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. There was a curtain of ivy that the boats passed through and found themselves in an underground dock. Draco and Blaise heled Harry and Daphne out before they all started to follow the man once more, Theo joining them again.

From the harbor, the first years were led up a set of stairs into a corridor that ended with a large doorway. The man knocked on the door, and it opened revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She had a very stern face and Harry’s first thought was not to cross her. “The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall, ma’am,” the man said.

“Thank you Hagrid, I shall take them from here.” She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big, Harry felt he could fit both his and Draco’s bedroom three times over and still have room for more. Professor McGonagall led them to a set of great wooden doors where hundreds of voices were coming from. She stopped and turned around to talk with them. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said. “The start-of-term feast will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. While you are here, your house will be like your family. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the coveted House Cup, a great honor.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school.” Harry felt a cold wind of nerves take over. Professor McGonagall went through the door, and immediately talk erupted around him. Harry, however, found that he felt oddly quiet, staring down at his feet until Professor McGonagall came back a few moments later saying, “We are ready for you now.”

The first years formed a line and the doors opened wide for them. They entered the Great Hall, a long and large room lit by thousands of floating candles that reminded Harry of whenever they had Christmas home with the shimmering floating crystals. There were four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years to the staff’s table, stopping them before they fully reached it and told them to wait. She went to the side and brought forth a stool on which she placed an old patchy hat. The room became silent and Harry wondered for a moment what was going to happen before a rip appeared near the brim of the hat, forming a large mouth, and it started to sing.

It had a horrible singing voice; Harry came to realize quickly. It reminded Harry of the time he and Draco found a cat near Sirius and Remus’s home stuck under the fence and it kept making the world’s most awful noise. He couldn’t really even begin to focus on what exact words the hat was saying, for all Harry could picture was that poor cat and how he had to get Remus to use his magic to make the fence post temporarily disappear to get the cat free. The singing stopped, and for some reason everyone applauded. Harry did not really know why, maybe the lyrics were good, but Harry figured most likely it was not.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a scroll. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!”

A girl walked forward and sat down on the stool. The hat was lowered onto her head, covering her eyes. A few moments later, the hat sounded out “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table to the right of Harry cheered loudly as the girl slipped off of the seat to join her new house. And so it went, the first years being called one by one to be sorted. Harry steeled himself and mentally collected himself as Professor McGonagall gotten closer and closer to M.

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Draco swaggered forward and the hat barely touched his head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!” The table all the way to the left cheered and Harry took a step forward, readying himself to hear his name.

“Moon, Lily.”

Harry stopped. He felt his heart drop as he stared at Professor McGonagall. _She skipped over my name!_ he thought. His face dropped as he looked around at his friends, who were all equally confused. He looked over at Draco, who was sitting at Slytherin Table with Daphne. Both had their mouths hanging open but not one of them knew what to do. Should they make a scene? Should they stop and ask? Harry suddenly felt even more nervous than ever. Was there a mistake? Did his name just not get added? Or, worse, was he not supposed to be here at all? He looked up at the staff table, only to see a similar confused look on Dumbledore as well. He did not know what all of this mean. Harry was so preoccupied that he did not notice that Theo was called, followed by Pansy Parkinson, both of them going to Slytherin. Next came a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil” then, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, Professor McGonagall called out, “Potter, Harry!”

Harry stepped forward; however he couldn’t help but frown as they got his name wrong. As he reached the stool, he stopped for a moment and looked at Professor McGonagall, “Uh, ma’am, that’s not my name,” he said softly as whispers broke out like little hissing from all over the hall. “I’m Harry Malfoy, or Harry Potter-Malfoy.”

Professor McGonagall frowned. “These lists are taken directly from the Book of Admittance, which the Quill of Acceptance writes in on the day you were born. It cannot be altered. However, I will bring this up with the headmaster. You may be sorted now.”

Harry felt a little at ease and smiled as he sat onto the stool. The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second, he was looking at the black inside of the hat.

“Hmm,” a small voice said in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, on yes plenty of that, and a thirst to prove yourself. So where shall I put you?”

 _Pick Slytherin,_ Harry mentally thought.

“Slytherin eh? Are you sure? You can be great you know, it’s all here in your head. And Slytherin could lead you on that path to greatness… but I’m not sure.”

 _Pick Slytherin,_ Harry thought more forcefully. The hat chuckled. “Are you sure?”

_Pick. Slytherin._

“Well then, SLYTHERIN!”

Harry grinned and slid off of the stool. Slytherin table was clapping, the students Harry recognized from his parents’ Yule Ball congratulating him as he made his way to his brother and sat down next to him. Draco ruffled his hair and the two siblings grinned. It was only then that Harry noticed that the rest of the Hall was too oddly quiet, and there were plenty of eyes on him. But Harry did not care, to be honest. He was with his friends and brother. The sorting ended with Blaise joining Slytherin and he sat on Harry’s other side, grinning.

“Hello husbands,” he said, grinning at Draco’s confused face. “Come on Draco don’t tell me you forgot,” he chuckled.

“I didn’t,” Harry said, remembering their old childhood game. “On the bright side we’re all in Slytherin.”

“Was there any doubt?” Draco asked. Harry just shrugged and looked around at the people who surrounded him. He could finally relax now, sighing as the last of the nerves left his body and he was left grinning and entirely starving. Professor McGonagall has taken away the stool and the Sorting Hat and Dumbledore was standing. He looked around at his students, nodding his head gently before saying a couple words, and much to Harry’s relief food appeared and he finally had his first dinner as a Slytherin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLYTHERIN! But will people believe Harry about the Talking Snake? And uhh, Mr. Author, what'cha gonna do about Quirrell?


	11. Parselmouth

Chapter 11

Parselmouth

After dinner, the first years were led by an older student called a prefect down to the Slytherin Common room. He led the first years into the entrance hall and instead of going along with the other students up a marble staircase, or to the left down a long corridor, the Slytherins went to the right where stairs led down towards the dungeon. Harry felt worried, even a little scared, about the prospects of sleeping in the dungeons for seven years. He took a step close to his brother and reached out for his hand, which Draco took instantly.

They were led by the rest of the Slytherins into the stoned walls and floor of the dungeons, their paths only lit by torches. It was a little cold, and Harry hoped that wherever they were going, it would be immensely warmer. The Prefect led them towards a dead end that was to the left of the stairs and turned towards them. “This is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room,” he announced. “In order to come in, you need to face the end and speak the password. The password changes every month and is posted on the bulletin board. You are under no circumstances allowed to tell any Non-Slytherin either the entrance or password to our common room.” He turned and faced the wall, “Half-blood,” he said.

The wall shook as bricks moved away one by one until an arch appeared that the Prefect led the first years through.

The common room was a long, low underground room with rough walls and ceiling, from which round green lamps hung from golden chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and already there were several fellow Slytherins sitting by it in curved chairs. On the opposite side was a wide window showing the watery atmosphere of the underside of the lake, fish swimming by occasionally. Harry and Draco stayed together with the other first years as the Prefect continued listing off rules that Harry honestly found boring. After that, they were dismissed.

Crabbe and Goyle went to bed immediately, along with Daphne and Theo, however Harry, Draco, and Blaise stayed up a little more, able to get three seats for themselves by the wide window. Neither of them talked. They just sat and grinned at each other before Harry heard something. There was a small shriek followed by laughter above which a teenage girl’s voice screamed, “You monster! What do you think you’re doing scaring me with a snake like that?”

“Come on babe, you have to think it was funny,” a boy laughed. However, underneath that, a third voice spoke, much quieter than the other two.

_“My Master is such a stupid boy.”_

Harry perked up at that. The voice sounded extremely familiar. He only heard it once before in his bedroom. Harry stood from his chair and turned around slowly, looking for the hissing noise. It was awesome! To meet with two talking snakes so close to each other! Harry wanted to go and say hi to it and show Draco that he wasn’t lying.

He found the snake in a basket in a corner, its head just hanging over the edge lazily. Harry made a straight line towards it and smiled, kneeling slightly to look eye to eye. The snake looked at Harry for a moment and hissed. _“Great, another human to gawk at me. If only I was not defanged…”_

 _“Did it hurt? When you got your fangs out?”_ Harry asked, smiling. _“And hello! My name is Harry Malfoy, what’s yours?”_

 _“Oh? A child who speaks instead of gawks? Finally,”_ the snake hissed, _“I suppose I can use a conversation. My Master is useless for that.”_

 _“Who is your master?”_ Harry asked.

The snake looked up and stared around before looking out at a tall lanky teenager. _“Him,”_ the snake said. _“My rude master who is too idiotic to even look at me. Though he does give me nice big juicy rats.”_

 _“That’s nice, but why does he not even look at you?”_ Harry asked.

The snake turned to stare at Harry for a moment and stood up, as though puffing out its body proudly. _“Look at me Harry Malfoy, what do you see? A boy or a girl?”_

Harry stared at the snake for a moment, frowning. _“Um you look and sound like a girl,”_ he said.

 _“Exactly! I am a beautiful woman! A lady who deserves a name of grace and sophistication that matches my beauty! I was brought by my master’s family before my mother could even give me a name to match my beauty. I was named by my master, my horrible, disgusting of a pig master who could not see true beauty if it strikes at him. He obviously wanted a male snake, an aggressive killer whom he can tame. And so he gave me a ridiculous name, a hideous name—a boy’s name which does not even begin to represent my grace! Viper.”_ The snake shuttered with disgust. She shook her head and looked between Harry and her owner.

 _“That’s horrible!”_ Harry exclaimed. _“Have you tried telling him?”_

 _“Of course I did, but the boy is an idiot, all of them are. You are the first who actually heard me,”_ the snake said.

 _“Oh, that’s bad,”_ Harry frowned. He looked at the snake and gasped, _“What if I help you think of a new name? A very beautiful name!”_

 _“That would be lovely,”_ the snake said, nodding. Harry smiled at that and thought for a long moment, putting his hand to his chin as he did so. He racked over names in his brain, throwing them out one after another as he stared at the snake, who waited patiently. Finally, he gave a small gasp and grinned, _“How about Sophia? I remember seeing it in one of my mum’s books and it sounds pretty.”_

 _“Sophia… Sophia, yes, I like that,”_ the snake now christened Sophia said. She nodded then looked at her owner and then asked Harry, _“If you would be a dear, tell my idiot owner about my new name. Perhaps it’ll help him grow a brain cell.”_

 _“Okay!”_ Harry smiled. He stood up and then walked up to the teen who was sitting with his girlfriend, who still looked annoyed. “Um, excuse me, but is the snake yours?” he asked.

The Slytherin looked at Harry for a moment then smirked, “First year?” he asked, and Harry nodded. “He’s cool, right? He’s a deadly snake, raised and tamed him myself,” he said. “I call him Viper because of how murderous he is.”

“I think she’s rather pretty,” Harry said, “and she told me that you’re really rude to her! She’s a girl, not a boy and she wants to be called Sophia.”

“The fu—hell are you talking about, kid?” the teen said angrily, getting a sharp jab in his stomach from his girlfriend mid-sentence.

“You have a talking snake! She talks very well,” Harry said. “Though she says that you’re too idiotic to listen to her.”

“Listen, kid, you are this close to wishing you were born a Squib,” the teen warned, his anger showing quickly. They were starting to get onlookers which caused Harry to take half a step back before shaking his head.

“No, you listen,” he said. “You have a talking snake, and her name is Sophia. She is a girl, not a boy, and you really need to start treating her better!”

“That’s it!” The teen yelled, standing up. “You’re not even supposed to be here, Potter so don’t even think of lecturing me about my _male_ snake Viper! He is my pet, not yours, so shut up before I hex you!”

Harry stood his ground, glaring at him. He then glanced to see that Sophia was moving. She was out of her basket and now was sitting on a table to their right. She shook her head, _“I told you my master is an idiot.”_

“Viper! Bite this stupid boy,” the teen commanded.

_“See?”_

_“I’m sorry, I tried telling him,”_ Harry told Sophia, turning completely to her. The snake shook her head once more as both were oblivious to the gasps around them. _“He just didn’t believe me and then he got really angry.”_

 _“It is fine Harry Malfoy, perhaps he will grow a brain cell and see my beauty, or I can choke him and go live on my own,”_ Sophia chuckled, _“however then I wouldn’t get those fat juicy mice.”_

 _“I don’t think you should do that,”_ Harry said. He looked at the teen, “Right?” he said, “You always feed her the best fat juicy mice.”

The teen just stared, opened mouth. His skin looked sickly pale as he stared at Harry. The eleven-year-old frowned, “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“You—you were hissing at my snake,” the teen said.

“No we were talking,” Harry said. “Sophia said that she thought of choking you and running away but then she couldn’t get those big juicy mice that you give her.”

“M-Mice—yeah, yeah I give him mice,” the teen nodded. “Err—I mean her! I give her mice!” He glanced at the two, “She’s not going to choke me, is she?”

Harry looked at Sophia who laughed in a long hiss. _“No, how else will I get my mice?”_

“She says how else will she get her mice?” Harry translated. “Why can’t you understand her? She’s speaking clear English.”

“Harry.”

Harry turned at Draco’s voice. He, like everyone else, was staring at him. Harry smiled when he saw his brother and jumped towards him. “Draco! Look! I told you about the talking snake and look here’s another one. Her name is Sophia, but her owner thought she was a boy! Can you believe that?” he grinned. He turned to Sophia and said, _“This is my big brother, Draco!”_

 _“You two look different,”_ Sophia noted.

 _“I’m adopted,”_ Harry explained, _“But our parents love me just the same, just as Draco and I love each other!”_ he turned to Draco, “Right Draco,” he said.

“What?”

Harry frowned. “Weren’t you listening? I told Sophia that we love each other,” he said.

“Harry, I heard you hissing,” Draco said, with a small quiver in his voice. “Don’t you remember Harry? The tales Father told us about Slytherin’s founder?”

Harry frowned in confusion as he thought. “You mean about how he could speak Parseltongue?” he asked. Draco nodded. “But Draco, this snake was talking English just like us.”

“No it wasn’t kid,” the girlfriend said. “Both of you were hissing.” Harry stared at her before looking at Draco and Sophia. His mind worked on overload as he tried to comprehend the conclusion.

“Wait—was I really hissing Draco?” he asked hesitantly in a small voice. Draco just nodded. “Hissing,” Harry repeated. “But we were talking, I understood everything she told me!”

“I believe that you were talking Harry, but it wasn’t in English,” Draco said.

“I know a different language?” Harry said, “How can I know a different language without knowing it?” He asked.

“I don’t know, but mother and father need to know this immediately,” Draco said. “You’re a Parselmouth, Harry! But that can’t be.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, honestly confused as his sleepy mind tried to process all of this. Draco took a step towards Harry and whispered, “Because only Slytherin’s family can speak to snakes. It’s the one thing that makes them different. You could be his great-great-something grandson!”

Harry stared at Draco, his brain refusing to make sense of this. Shock went through him, naturally, however, he couldn’t really comprehend it or the weird looks everyone was giving him. He wanted to be alone, or at least alone with Draco. He reached out for his brother’s hand and squeezed it. “I want to go to bed, please,” he said.

His brother nodded and the two walked towards the stairway that led to the dormitory, the others moving out of the way to clear the path. Harry went to his trunk and grabbed his pajamas and diary as Blaise came up a moment later. The three dressed silently and Harry opened his diary, but only had energy to write down one sentence.

_I can speak to snakes._

Harry closed his diary and dropped it in his trunk. Instead of going to his bed, he instead went to Draco’s, which was on the other side of Blaise’s who stood between the two brothers’ beds. Harry did not even need to ask, the two just shared a look and Draco opened his covers, his brother climbing in. The two fell asleep staring at each other.

Rumors spread throughout the castle the next day. Harry woke up to whispers about him that followed wherever he went.

“Look there! Next to the blond!”

‘That small boy?”

“Yeah!”

“He’s kind of cute.”

“That’s Potter?”

“Yeah!”

“Why is he a Slytherin?”

“I heard he talks to snakes.”

“Really?”

“How!? This makes no sense!”

“Dirty traitor.”

Harry shrank away from the whispers, keeping close to Blaise and Draco as the first years walked around the school. During breakfast on the first day their Head of House, a man dressed in black with greasy hair and a hooked nose that reminded Harry of a walking bat named Professor Snape, handed out their class schedules. When he reached Harry, the boy had a good indication that he did not like Harry very much as he scowled at him as he silently gave Harry his schedule.

“He doesn’t like me,” Harry frowned.

“Snape? Why?” Draco asked, Harry just shrugged, and they looked at their schedule. They were both excited to start their lessons but finding them in the first place proved to be a challenge. Hogwarts was bigger than either boy expected. There were about one hundred and forty-two stairways in the castle that, depending on the time of day, led you to where you expected it to go, disappear entirely, or only worked correctly on a Friday afternoon, and even then you have to ask politely. It was a chore getting to the classes, but then the boys had to deal with the classes themselves.

Through Mr. Willow’s tutoring, both Harry and Draco knew that there was much more to magic than waving their wands around and saying the correct incantation. However, neither of them was ready for the amount of notes they needed to take before they were even allowed to pick up their wands in class.

Three times a week, they went out to the greenhouses to learn Herbology from a dumpy witch named Professor Sprout who wore patched robes and hat. She taught them all how to take care of strange plants and fungi that Harry never saw at home. Every Wednesday night, they went out onto the Astronomy Tower to study the stars and planets.

The most boring class at all was History of Magic, which was taught by the only ghost professor named Professor Binns. He spoke in a slow monotone voice that droned on as they had to scribble notes about names and dates.

Professor Flitwick was their Charms teacher. He was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he almost fell off the pile when he called out Harry’s name.

Professor McGonagall, by contrast, was a teacher whom Harry knew immediately not to cross. Strict and clever, the very second the last of the students sat down, she gave them a talking to. “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she said. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

She then turned her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realized they weren’t going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. After taking notes, they were given a match to turn into a sewing needle. By the end of the class, the only person whose match had any difference was Hermione Granger’s, a Gryffindor girl. Harry recognized her as the girl from the train.

That was also the day that both Harry and Draco were formally introduced to Ron Weasley. He was a tall boy, even taller than Blaise and Draco, with ginger red hair and a freckled nose. He wore his Gryffindor robes proudly and whenever the Gryffindors and Slytherins had class together, Harry could always feel Ron Weasley’s eyes staring at him. So, between Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry stepped away from his brother and friends to talk with the Gryffindors.

“Hello,” he said politely, smiling at them. “I’m Harry Malfoy.”

“We know,” one boy said, “Is it true? That you talk to snakes or something?” Harry looked at the boy. He had dark skin and short hair with brown eyes. Harry made sure to give his most innocent smile as he nodded, tugging at his robes a little to hide his hands.

“Yeah,” he said. “I can talk to snakes, but I only learned that recently! And that it is only a skill that Slytherin’s family have, is that true?” he asked, looking up at the boy.

“Uh y-yeah,” the boy said, quickly looking away as a blush developed.

“You, you all don’t hate me because of that, do you?” he asked.

“N-No,” the boy said.

“But aren’t you supposed to be with us?” Ron Weasley demanded. “We all grew up on stories like yours! Then you went up and got adopted by those slimy Malfoys!”

Harry frowned at that. He turned to Ron and mentally sized him up. He kept his cute smile on as he stared at the redhead. “My family aren’t slimy,” he said. “We take baths every single day, I’ll let you know.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it,” Ron muttered.

Harry sighed then looked at the three boys. “I’m sorry, it’s very rude of me, but what was your name again?” he asked the first one.

“I’m Dean Thomas,” he answered. “And I’m a half-blood, dad’s a wizard and mum’s a witch.”

“Does that matter?” Harry asked. Dean looked at him, shocked, before shrugging. “Did you grow up with stories about me?” Harry asked.

“Uh, a bit?” Dean said. “I know that you’re the reason You-Know-Who’s gone.”

Harry nodded. “What else?”

“Your parents fought against You-Know-Who,” Ron said, “and now you’re being raised by a Death Eater! My uncles were in the same group that your parents were in that fought against You-Know-Who! My parents told me all about them and you!”

Harry’s smile faltered. He looked at Ron for a moment, “My dad is not a Death Eater,” he said, doing his best to keep his temper. “Yeah he’s a bit mean at times—especially to Sirius and Remus—but he did not follow You-Know-Who.”

“Oh really? How are you so sure?” Ron asked, crossing his arms.

“Because he and mum told me so,” Harry said easily.

“They’re lying,” Ron scoffed.

“No, they’re not!” Harry huffed. He turned to Dean, “Dean, do you think that my dad’s a Death Eater?” he asked innocently.

“Um—well…”

“Do you think I’m a bad guy? Do you Dean?” Harry insisted. “Or how about you?” he turned to the third boy. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

The third boy was a stocky Irish boy with dark brown hair. “Seamus,” he said. “And uhm, you are a Slytherin,” he began.

“Yes but we hardly know each other,” Harry said.

“And you talk to snakes!” Ron said. “And you being in Slytherin is bad enough! There’s not a witch or wizard who was in Slytherin that didn’t go bad.”

Harry’s smile was completely gone. He turned to Ron to reply when they were interrupted.

“Harry, what’s taking so long?” Draco walked up to them, followed by Theo. He looked at Ron and immediately stepped between them. “What did you say to my little brother, Weasley?”

“Nothing, Malfoy,” Ron said. “What’s it matter to you?”

“Because you made my brother sad, Weasley!” Draco said a bit louder. Harry frowned and looked at Theo for help. They both gently took one of Draco’s arms and Harry looked at Dean and Seamus, “I’m so sorry,” he said, “but we have to go before we’re late, we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws. It was nice meeting you two.”

The two just nodded awkwardly while Ron still looked angrily at the two, but mostly at Draco. Harry has been really looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sirius and Remus told the boys countless stories of how they used spells they’ve learned to fend off Dark Wizards and even dueled each other whenever the boys, mainly Harry, begged them. So, it was an utter disappointment for both boys to see that Professor Quirrell’s class was a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would come back for him one day. He wore a turban, which he told them was a gift from an African prince for helping him with a zombie, however, the students did not believe that backstory, for it had a very funny smell that wafted from it. Another thing that Harry noticed, something he blamed the smell, was that his head hurts in Professor Quirrell’s classroom. It was hard to concentrate at times because of it, so much so that during the second class he interrupted class to ask if he could change seats and sit by the window.

The one class that Harry was worried about was Potions, which was taught by his Head of House, Professor Snape. “Ugh, we have Double Potions with _Weasley_ ,” Draco said, looking at his schedule. “Well at least it’ll be fun, Snape loves us Slytherins, and hate Gryffindor. Which he should, they have Ron Weasley!”

“Sounds like you’re in love, Draco,” Blaise teased. “All week it’s been ‘Ron Weasley’ this and ‘Ron Weasley’ that.”

“No, I haven’t!”

“Yes, you have,” Harry laughed, “I’ve written it down in my diary.”

“Harry,” Daphne interrupted, “How are you handling the uhh snake thing?”

Harry looked at her, “We’ve written to our parents but didn’t get anything back,” he said.

“Most likely the Potters are distantly descendant of Salazar Slytherin,” Theo said, everyone, looking at him. “We all know that because of our family’s fixation on keeping things ‘pure’ the Families all mix together. Some die out; however, their blood still flows through all of us. I’m guessing that Slytherin’s blood ran quite strongly in the Potter line. A bit ironic considering they were all mostly sorted into Gryffindor here.”

“But does House placement really have anything to do with family and personality?” Blaise asked. He smiled at Harry, “I don’t think you should worry at all about this, Harry. You can talk to snakes! It’s just a funny quirk of you, like how I can whistle songs all in one breath!” He grinned and Harry did feel a little better. He smiled at Blaise; whose cheeks blushed lightly.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “I feel better now.”

“Good, little brother. Now we can focus on Potions,” Draco smiled. “You were excellent for Mr. Willow, why shouldn’t you be excellent here?’ Harry nodded, feeling more confident. He took a breath and nodded at Draco and their friends, feeling more ready to face Potions with Snape. After all, Harry’s a Slytherin. Maybe that sneer at the beginning of the week meant nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not even a week and things are happening.... oh Harry.


	12. Broomstick and Rows

Chapter 12

Broomsticks and Rows

_I hate my Potions Professor. He kept picking on me during my first lesson and every time I answered correctly, that only seemed to make him angry! He didn’t even award me any points but gave everyone else in Slytherin points! It’s not fair. I hope that his attitude improves, but until then I hate him. In the words of Sirius, screw you Snape!_

_Though I have to admit I don’t know what that means, but it sounds angry because Sirius always says that whenever he’s angry at something. I really hope he doesn’t read this._

Classes continued, and Harry found that Snape did not change his opinion about him. It was insufferable for the young boy; however, he saw something on the notice board that made him grin. Flying lessons would start on Tuesday.

“Flying! That’s brilliant!” Draco cheered, looking at Harry, “We’ll show everyone how good we are! Especially Weasley.” Ever since their first meeting, Draco and Ron Weasley were seemingly at each other’s throats for some reason. Harry almost did not care, it distracted him from the whispers and stares that the other Slytherins would give him. They still did not receive any word from their parents or Remus and Sirius about Harry’s Parseltongue, however, Harry felt comfortable with the snake language and decided that he might as well live with it.

Tuesday morning arrived with two letters, one from Harry’s parents and the other from Remus and Sirius. “Hopefully, they have answers,” Draco said, Harry nodded. He picked up his parents’ letter and opened it, seeing his father’s neat handwriting.

_Harry,_

_First I have to say that your mother and I are both absolutely shocked that you are able to talk to snakes. This is something that neither of us even thought possible if even thought about it at all. You must first understand how special, and potentially dangerous, this is. Parseltongue is Slytherin’s gift. Only those who are direct descendants from Salazar Slytherin can speak to snakes. Most specifically, the last known Parselmouth was the Dark Lord himself._

_At first, this can be worrying, obviously, as he made me do terrible things under the Imperius Curse, a Dark Spell that took over my mind and body. However, we should not focus on him or his connection to your special Language. This is fate, Harry. Fate! Proof that you have always been destined to be who you are, a proud Malfoy, and a prouder member of Slytherin. Own this gift. Use it. And continue making us proud._

_From,_

_Your Father._

Harry did not feel any better after reading the letter, he let it drop to the table and immediately opened Sirius’ letter as Draco took their father’s. Sirius’s letter was longer and seemed immediately much more heartwarming as Harry read it.

_Harry!_

_Give this letter to your brother afterward, will you? Remus and I wrote a message to him. Unless you’re reading this right now Draco, in which case please stop reading your brother’s mail and flip this around._

_Anyway, Harry, and hopefully only Harry (unless you allow Draco to read this, I don’t know how brothers work nowadays), Remus, and I hope you’re feeling okay. We were both really surprised at your letter about that snake, Sophia, and your Parseltongue ability. Firstly, good for you for helping that snake. How dim must that boy be to not see the difference between male and female? I’m gay and I can spot the difference immediately without even—_ the rest of the sentence was scribbled out and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. The handwriting changed as Harry assumed that Remus took over.

_Sorry, Harry, my husband lost control of himself. Do not worry, he is on the bed sulking. As we were saying, it is very interesting to hear that you can talk to snakes. As you may know by now, no doubt drilled into your head by Lucius, the ability to speak Parseltongue is mainly a Slytherin thing. Slytherin as in Slytherin the family, not the House. We both have been looking through your family history and we simply cannot explain. As far as we know, the Potters are only somewhat related to Slytherin, just as they are somewhat related to the Gryffindor family. Funny enough, I was able to trace the Slytherin bloodline directly down to a family called Gaunt who died out in the 40s. It does not matter in any sense, however, I just felt like sharing this fact (it took me so long to find this out that I might as well put this to use)._

_In the end, this is a rather hard mystery, isn’t it? With why it is that you can speak to snakes. However, do not think that it is destiny or some ultimate symbol that you were always supposed to be in Slytherin. You’re in Slytherin because you are sly, clever, cute, and know how to use everything you have to better yourself and your family. You are the most resourceful child I ever have known, Harry. Never forget that._

_Being a Parselmouth does not define you, it is just another quality of this great and wonderful boy I know named Harry James Potter-Malfoy. People might judge you, no in fact I know they will, but I know that you are strong Harry. You are strong by yourself and even stronger with your brother and friends. Stick to them. Turn to them when things get too tough for you to handle. Do not be afraid to ask for help. And turn to us, Sirius, and I will always support you Harry, and you too Draco. I am absolutely certain that you are reading this, if not over Harry’s shoulder than right after your brother. Look after him, will you? You’re the big brother. Look out for Harry, and Harry look out for Draco._

_Love,_

_Remus and his brooding husband, Sirius_

Harry smiled and handed the letter to Draco as he looked at his friends. “I don’t think we should worry about how I got my ability to speak to snakes,” he said aloud. “It’s a part of who I am, not the main focus, but just a part.”

“Agreed,” Theo nodded, looking at the others expectantly who nodded. Breakfast went on afterward as normal and before Harry knew it, the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years were walking out of the castle into the afternoon air after classes for the first flying lesson.

It was a clear breezy day and Harry was brimming with excitement and they made their way down a sloping lawn towards a flat area opposite the castle. The Slytherins arrived first, waiting by the twenty brooms that waited on the ground in neat lines. The Gryffindors arrived noisily and Harry could not help but roll his eyes as Draco glared at Ron Weasley. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!”

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” Madam Hooch said, and say ‘UP!’”

“UP!” everyone shouted.

Harry and Draco’s brooms jumped into their hands at once. They grinned as they were one of the few who did. Some have simply rolled over while Neville Longbottom, a scared-looking Gryffindor, hadn’t moved at all.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end and walked up and down the rows to correct their grips. Harry laughed loudly as right after Madam Hooch complimented him on his grip, she told Draco that he’s been doing it wrong for years.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hover for a moment then come straight back down immediately. On the whistle—three—two—”

But Neville, nervous and jumpy pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch’s lips.

“Come back down, boy!” she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle—higher and higher until he slipped, and Harry saw Neville’s horror-stricken face for only a second before he fell.

A thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. Madam Hooch was at his side immediately. “Broken wrist,” she muttered. “Come on boy, up you go you’ll be alright.” She got Neville to his feet and turned to the rest of the class. “None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! If I see any of you even holding a broom, you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can even say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, bobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

Draco looked around and smirked when he found something out of the grass. It was a glass ball with white smoke in it. “Look at this, maybe if Longbottom held onto this he would remember to not let go.” Some of the Slytherins laughed while Harry frowned. He smacked his brother’s shoulder as Ron Weasley stepped towards them.

“Give that back Malfoy!” he demanded.

Draco hummed thoughtfully, “No, I don’t think I will Weasley,” he said. He threw it into the air and caught it, smirking at Ron. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll grab it from you if I have to! That’s not yours, you slime breath!”

“Slime breath?” Draco laughed, “Is that seriously the best you got Weasley?”

“At least I’m doing more than just saying your last name, snake-tongue!” Ron fumed.

Draco blinked for a second, “You got the wrong Malfoy, it’s Harry who can talk to snakes, not me,” he said.

“Draco,” Harry groaned but immediately he felt the eyes fall from them to him. He stepped back closer to Blaise who placed a hand on his shoulder.

Ron’s face turned red, “That’s because your family did some sneaky slimy Slytherin thing to Harry! You probably like locked him a room with snakes who made him learn!”

Draco laughed and smirked at Ron, “Really? Locking my brother in a room with snakes? Come now Weasley, do you really think I’m that cruel?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

Draco sighed and turned to Harry, “Harry have I ever locked—”

“I’m not getting into this Draco, just give him the darn thing back,” Harry said, giving him an angry look. Any fight in Draco left and he sighed, silently tossing the object in the air and Ron catching it clumsily. Draco scoffed and returned to Harry, who just gave him a hard look. Draco tried to grin, but Harry just shook his head and turned to Ron, who was smirking at the two of them. “Ron Weasley,” he sighed, “Why do you and Draco just have to fight all the time?”

“I did nothing wrong! He got his slimy—”

Harry stared at Ron, raising an eyebrow. He looked in that moment of a pure innocence who channeled all of his annoyance in a single eyebrow raise. Ron’s words died down and Harry kept staring until he saw the redhead’s cheeks starting to go crimson. “My brother is my brother and sometimes he can be a git,” Harry said, “but Ron Weasley, there’s something I want you to know. I am who I am, and there’s nothing slimy or weird going on. I’m in Slytherin, so what? I’m with my brother and my friends. There’s no weird plan or whatever going on to turn me slimy or evil, okay?” Harry slowly stepped forward to Ron, his anger quickly being replaced by an innocent cuteness that only caused Ron to blush deeper. “So, can you please just drop this whole thing? For me?”

Ron nodded immediately, his voice squeaking as he tried to talk. “Y-Yeah.” Harry smiled and quickly bounced up. “Thank you, Ron! I knew you could be understanding,” he said. “However… he glanced around and leaned towards Ron’s ear whispering so that only Ron could hear him, “if I hear that you and Draco are being mean to each other again, I’ll have to punish you both.”

Ron made a scared yelp and Harry smiled at that. He backed away and looked purely innocent, “But we don’t need to worry about that, do we?” he smiled. Ron shook his head and Harry gave him one last smile before returning to his friends. He barely glanced at Draco as he returned to Blaise’s side, who once again placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Did you just make Weasley fall in love with you, husband?” Blaise joked.

“What? No!” Harry said, scrunching his nose up at the thought of love. “I just told him what Draco already knows.”

“Which is?”

“I’m not afraid to punish him,” Harry smiled, and this caused Blaise to laugh.

A few moments later, Madam Hooch arrived, and no mention of the confrontation ever left anyone’s lips for the remainder of the lesson nor for the rest of the week. Whenever Ron or Draco saw each other for the remainder of the week, they always flicked their eyes towards Harry, sometimes the boy catching it while other times he was oblivious. Then they would just stare at each other for a moment before moving on, a strange tension forming between them that paled in comparison to whatever punishment the young Harry Malfoy could think up.

The weekend came with sunshine and Harry woke up happy because he was not swamped with homework like he was the previous weekend. He rolled off his bed and grinned to himself as he went to his trunk to figure out which robes he was going to wear. As his mother said, it was the weekend, and he did not have to wear the school uniform during them. He could go right off the bat and wear pink, however, Harry found that he wasn’t really in a very pink mood, it was still one of his favorite colors, but his eyes constantly went to a periwinkle robe that he owned. But also there was a nice deep blue, or maybe green to show Slytherin pride? Harry groaned at his indecision.

“You know you’re going to have to take more clothes out if you want to hide in there.”

Harry only glanced back to see a sleepy Blaise staring at him from his bed. “I’m not trying to hide,” He scoffed, “I’m trying to figure out what I want to wear. It’s the weekend and I don’t need to wear the school’s uniform on weekends if I do not want to.” He picked up both the green and periwinkle robes and stood in front of Blaise, “Which one?” he asked.

“Uhm…”

“Blaise help me! I don’t want to ask Draco he’ll just pick the darkest color!” Harry pouted. His best friend chuckled and grinned at Harry’s pout.

“You have to stop doing that, you know I can’t resist,” he argued.

“That is why I do it,” Harry said. “Now choose.”

“That one,” Blaise said, pointing to the periwinkle robes. Harry grinned and thanked Blaise as he placed them on the bed before folding his green robes away. With the robes chosen, it was much easier for Harry to pick out the rest of his outfit to match or go along with the color. When he had his clothing situation figured out, he went to the bathroom to get ready then returned to get dress.

He finished just as Draco was getting up. His older brother just stared at Harry for a moment, blinking his eyes before shrugging. “I don’t feel like wearing pink today,” Harry said.

“Alright, well me neither,” Draco yawned. “wait in the common room, I’ll be down in a bit.”

Harry nodded and went to the common room. A few older years were already awake and loitering about. Harry just smiled at them cheerfully as he went to a chair to wait in. He has gotten a few curious glances and some snickers but ultimately, they left him alone. Draco and Blaise came down at the same time and Harry jumped up to join them.

Harry’s heart sank as they entered the Great Hall, he stuck out like a sore thumb with his robes, looking like a periwinkle straw in a sea of black. He shifted uncomfortably and frowned, looking down at his robes. “Harry? What’s the matter?” Daphne asked.

Harry looked up to her and said, “I’m the only one wearing different robes,” he said.

Daphne looked around and made a noise, “Oh,” she said.

Harry frowned and looked down at his robes, “I should go change,” he said.

“No!” Both Draco and Blaise said. “You are not going to change,” Draco said.

Harry flinched and looked at both boys, “But I’m different! No one else is out of their school robes!”

“I mean there are others who are out of uniform,” Theo said, looking around. “But they’re wearing their school robes over it.”

Harry made a sad noise and sighed. “I guess,” he said. “But it still feels weird.”

“Well you look beautiful Harry,” Blaise said. “And if you go change, it’ll feel weird. I like seeing you in all your fabulous colors.”

Harry felt his cheeks go red as he smiled at Blaise. “Thank you,” he said.

Blaise grinned and his eyebrows raised as he got an idea, “How about you and I spend the day together?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’ll be fun,” Harry smiled.

“Excellent!” Blaise grinned. “You don’t mind I steal your brother from you, right Draco?”

The blonde shrugged, “I mean if you make him cry I’ll have to hex you,” he said.

“As if you know how!” Blaise said, “but hey it’ll just be me and Harry, no crazy things going on.”

Draco just gave another shrug and waved it away. Harry and Blaise left together after breakfast, Blaise bringing Harry outside to enjoy the September fall air. “It’s been a long time since it’s just the two of us, eh Harry?” Blaise grinned.

“Yeah, “Harry nodded. “We were ten right? Draco was sick and I went over to your place to hang out.”

“Uh-huh,” Blaise grinned. He slung a friendly arm over Harry’s shoulder as they walked through the courtyard towards the grounds. “But now I have you all to myself again,” Blaise said. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask: how is it like? Talking to snakes.”

“It’s weirdly natural?” Harry said, looking a little quizzical. “Like I didn’t even realize I’m talking a different language! Like I told you all, I thought that Sophia and that other snake were two snakes who could speak English.”

“Weird, but cool,” Blaise said. “So, what else did that snake say? Sophia right?”

“Yeah and uhh nothing much, she just complained that her owner kept calling her a boy and that nobody could understand her,” Harry said.

“Oh?” Blaise said. “Huh.”

Harry nodded. “I like her,” he said. “She seems really nice, and a bit funny.”

“That’s good,” Blaise nodded. “She has good taste, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well, she must have enjoyed talking with you since she got you to fix her owner,” Blaise said.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled. They were by the end of the courtyard when they stopped for a second. Harry stretched and looked around for a place to wander around with his friend. They were about to step out the courtyard when an older voice yelled out, “Hey! Malfoy!” They turned to see a few older years. They were smirking and sniggering as one of them said, “Nice robes! You trying to win poof of the year?”

“It’s very queer of you, you look fabulous, darlin’!” the other said in a very exaggerated lisp. They laughed and walked away, but their laughter still remained in Harry. He could feel any and all confidence in him shatter. He held tightly to his robes and stood in place and started to shiver with tears.

“Harry…”

“I hate this!” Harry yelled and he ran away, tearing off his robes. He threw his robes to the floor and started crying aloud. He didn’t care or notice where he was running towards. He just wanted to get away. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thought. _I shouldn’t have ever brought my robes! I’m so stupid!_

Harry ran across the field. He could hear Blaise, far away, yelling out for him but he didn’t care. He didn’t want anyone to be around his stupidity. He ran further and further away from the castle and towards the forbidden woods, not caring about any looks or yells. All he needed was to get away from his stupidity.

He reached the forest edge and tripped, screaming as he fell and rolled over, dirtying his clothes, and having his glasses fly off his face. “Ow,” he sniffled, laying where he stopped for a long moment. He just laid there, not moving, and cried.

He felt a hand on his shoulder after some time and sniffled. “No,” he whined.

“Harry.” It was Blaise.

“No, I’m stupid, don’t look at me,” Harry said. He felt something over him, and he looked over his shoulder to see that it was his robes.

“Don’t listen to them,” Blaise said. “Come on, you’re stronger than this Harry. You look great in your colorful robes and you know we all love seeing you in them.”

“But—but,” Harry sniffled.

Blaise shook his head and said, “Come on Malfoy, sit up! You’re really going to ruin everything because of stupid teenagers?”

Harry frowned and sat up. “No,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to stick out.”

“You’re not sticking out, you’re being beautiful!” Blaise said. “Remember? My mother says that boys can be very beautiful!”

“I do,” Harry sniffled. He wiped his face and frowned. He held onto his robes and looked at Blaise, “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” Blaise smiled. “Come on, just put on your pretty robes Harry.” Harry nodded and stood up, putting his robes back on. Blaise quickly hugged him and held him as tightly as he could. “Feel better!” the taller Slytherin commanded.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Come on, let’s go actually have fun,” he grinned but they barely took a step when they both stopped once more at the sound of hissing. They turned and Harry smiled as he saw the familiar slithering form of Sophia come towards them.

 _“Oh, it’s the smart one,”_ she said. _“Hello, are you here to mate too?”_

 _“Mate?”_ Harry asked.

 _“Yes, there was a strong male in the forest,”_ the snake said. _“Speaking to two smart humans is fine at times, however, it is always nice to be with another actual snake.”_

Harry gasped at that and looked wildly at Sophia. “Two!?” he said in English. “Blaise, did you hear that?”

“No, what did she say?” Blaise asked.

“She said two smart humans!” Harry said. He turned to her and asked excitedly, _“Do you mean you found another human who can talk with you?”_ he concentrated and found that he could almost hear the change, his voice hissing instead of speaking.

Sophia nodded and looked at Harry for a moment. _“Yes, though I never saw a man like him before. He was drinking unicorn blood, very bad to do that I heard. My male friend told me what happens when you do, it is not pretty. Not that he was ever pretty,”_ she chuckled grimly. _“You should see him; he has two faces: one looking rather dead and the other terrified. It’s the dead one that can speak to me, the other face was just making these amusing terrifying noises,”_ she laughed.

 _“A man with two faces?”_ Harry asked. He felt something heavy inside him, a scared feeling that caused his scar to prickle. He frowned deeply and knelt down, so he was closer to the snake. _“Who is he? Do you know?”_ he asked.

 _“Can’t say I do,”_ Sophia said, _“But he was rather mean. Did not even ask me for my name, just demanded question after question of things I don’t know about. I’d watch out for him if I were you, boy.”_ Harry swallowed heavily and looked at Blaise. Sophia just slithered away, and Harry hugged Blaise.

“Harry? What’s the matter?” Blaise asked.

“There’s another person here who can speak to snakes,” Harry whispered. “A man with two faces. He drinks unicorn blood and Sophia is afraid of him.”

Blaise immediately hugged Harry back. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

Harry gave a small whine and looked at the forest. “I want to get away from the forest,” he said. Blaise nodded. He barely let go of Harry, keeping an arm around him, and they quickly ran towards the Black Lake where, sitting by the shore, both were able to calm down and relax, the thoughts of the two-faced man on the edge of their minds, but Harry pushed them back. He didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to think about Hogwarts, about being with Blaise, and wearing his favorite robes. He sighed and looked over at Blaise who offered a grin. The two-faced man was pushed over the edge of his mind, and Harry smiled back, letting out a long, relaxed sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A man with two faces? That can't be good!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry’s Intuition

Try as Harry might, he could not get Sophia’s words out of his mind. A man with two faces. A man who can also speak with her. He just didn’t understand! How could there be two Parselmouths in Hogwarts? A week continued with him focusing on this problem. He confined in both Blaise and Draco, obviously, however, Draco reassured him not to worry. “She probably was mistaken Harry,” he said. “Besides, what else is there we can do? We’re only eleven.”

Harry tried to take Draco’s words to heart, but it was hard for the young Malfoy. It was extremely hard to not think of the two-faced man especially during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry did not know why, but he could never fully pay attention in that class. The smell in the classroom was overwhelming, it invaded his head and caused Harry’s nose to twitch and scrunch up as Professor Quirrell kept stuttering along, almost never letting them do anything practical. He always sounded scared, and quite jumpy as he taught. The first years all wanted to hear stories of how he met vampires and how he got the turban, but Quirrell always started sweating nervously and stuttered on about something else.

One day, Professor Quirrell was teaching the class about the Knockback Jinx, _Flipendo_ , as the class just listened on dozily. It was a rather cloudy day and Harry couldn’t find anything interesting outside to stare at to dull the small ache in his head the smells were causing. He was about to fall asleep completely when a voice snapped the class awake.

“Sir?”

It was Theo Nott, raising his hand. Professor Quirrell stopped and stared at Nott. “Yes, Th-Theodore?” he asked.

“I was wondering, sir, if it would not be beneficial for us if we actually practiced the spell? We have spent the last two classes taking notes on it, but so far we haven’t even taken out our wands at all for your class,” Theo said. “We used our wands loads of times in other classes, so why not this?”

“That’s—that’s because it i-is un-unnecessary,” Quirrell stuttered. “Th-th-there’s no reason, eh, for—for you all to practice it.”

“But sir,” Theo continued. “How are we supposed to even know if we can do it if we don’t practice the spells?”

“B-Because you don’t need to,” Professor Quirrell said. “Te-ten p-points from Slytherin!”

The Slytherins just stared at Quirrell in utter shock. They couldn’t believe what he did! The Ravenclaw whom they had the class with just looked around curious and hesitant. Harry saw in their eyes that they didn’t want to get involved, even though they obviously agreed with Theo. Harry looked between Theo and Quirrell and raised his hand. “M-Malfoy?”

“How do you know that we even know the spells good enough if we don’t practice?” he asked. Quirrell gave a little whimper and the strong garlic smell somehow intensified.

“W-Well then Malfoy,” Professor Quirrell said, doing his best to hold his head high as though confident. “If you’re—you’re so insistent, th-then show your fellow cl-cl-classmates how to cast _Flipendo_.”

Harry blinked, surprised, but stood up. He felt weird pulling out his wand in class and looked around. “Uh, who do I use it on, sir?” he asked.

Professor Quirrell stared at him, as though confused at the question before looking around. “You! Boy!” he snapped at a random Ravenclaw. The student jumped and stood up, Harry recognizing him as Terry Boot. “Him, Mr. Malfoy,” Quirrell said.

Harry looked at Terry Boot and looked uncertain, “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Uh, no,” Boot answered honestly but nodded. The two moved so that Boot wouldn’t be knocked into anything that could hurt him and Harry took a breath and whipped his wand, doing the gesture their textbook taught him as he said, _“Flipendo!”_

There was a loud bang and a yellow light that shot out from Harry’s wand. It hit Terry Boot in the chest and the Ravenclaw immediately fell down, as though he slipped on the floor. Harry immediately ran to help Boot up.

“Th-there,” Quirrell stuttered. “That—that’s how you p-p-perform the spell. No need to practice it any—anymore.”

Harry just glanced at Quirrell and frowned but returned to his seat as Boot returned to his. They all stayed in their seats for the rest of class, the students all sharing a strange feeling as they glanced around, afraid to ask again if they’ll practice any spells.

Of course, that left Harry’s performance in class the talk of the first years as they all left the classroom half an hour later. During lunch, Harry’s performance has spread throughout the entire castle, and Harry couldn’t help but feel everyone’s eyes as every whisper seemed to include his name. After lunch, Harry and Draco were walking out of the Great Hall when they saw Ron Weasley who was with the other first year Gryffindors.

As though comically attracted, Draco and Ron noticed the other and glared, taking a step toward the other. “Draco, don’t,” Harry groaned, but it was useless.

Draco and Ron just stood in front of the other, glaring at the other with the meanest faces they could muster. “Malfoy,” Ron said.

“Weasley.”

“What you want Malfoy? Thinking of doing something glaring at me like that?” Ron demanded.

Draco laughed and sneered, “Me doing something? Oh please Weasley, as if you just live in my thoughts all day long! Just admit it, you’re obsessed with me and stared at me first.”

Draco smirked as Ron’s face turned red. Harry glanced at the other Gryffindors who all shared an annoyed look aimed at Draco and the other Slytherins. Irritation quickly grew in the younger Malfoy. He stepped forward only for hands to hold him back. He glanced back to see Crabbe and Goyle. “Let me go,” he demanded.

“No, I wanna see Malfoy smash Weasley’s face in,” Goyle chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s the only useful thing you Malfoys can do in a while,” Pansy Parkinson snorted from the group. Harry slapped Goyle’s hand off of his shoulder and turned to glare at Pansy.

“Nobody asked or cares about your opinion Parkinson, so just screw off!” he yelled, the first years around them gasped.

“You did not just say that to me that you little boy!” Pansy said.

“I did and I’ll say it again,” Harry said. “No one cares about you Pansy, so just go away!”

Pansy grabbed for her wand but Daphne stopped her, grabbing her arm and dragging the girl away. Behind Harry, Ron just laughed, “Looks like your friends don’t get along, eh Malfoy?” he smirked at Draco.

“Parkinson’s not my friend, carrot-haired,” Draco sneered back.

“Really? Could have fooled me, she looks just as slimy as you,” Ron smirked. Draco pulled his wand out with ease and aimed it at the Gryffindor.

“Don’t compare me to her!” he demanded. “I’m nothing like her!” he yelled that a bit too loud and intense. Harry once again tried to stop him only for Crabbe and Goyle to grab him once more.

“Let me go!” Harry demanded, Theo and Blaise rushing to try and help him but the two boys were too strong and were watching Draco and Ron with amusement. “Hex him Malfoy!” they said, edging Draco on. “Go on!”

“I’m not… I’m not,” Draco repeated. He glared at Ron, though his eyes looked as though he wasn’t fully there, as though he was worried about something that was far away from the current incident. “I’m not like Parkinson!” he yelled again.

Ron too had his wand out and aimed at Draco. He was weirded out but didn’t back down. “You’re acting like her,” he said.

“Ron shut up!” Harry yelled, “Draco, put your wand away or else!”

“I’m not like her, I’m not,” Draco muttered, lost in a trance. “Fli—”

“Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Weasley! That is enough!”

Professor McGonagall came into the entrance hall, looking at both of them sternly. “Put your wands away—and you two! Let go of Mr. Malfoy this instant!” She demanded, looking from Draco and Ron to Crabbe and Goyle. “In all my years of teaching at Hogwarts, I have never experienced such blatant rule-breaking from first years! We are not even a month into the school year and both of you have decided to have an illegal duel? Twenty points from both your houses and detention with me at seven o’clock Thursday.” Draco seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. He just stared at Professor McGonagall for a moment before nodding. Ron, meanwhile, staring at her slack-jawed.

“But Professor—”

“No ‘buts’ Mr. Weasley,” she said. “Now all of you better get to class immediately or else I will deduct more points from each of you—yes you too Miss. Granger. Now move along.”

She moved through the group of first years, shaking her head disapprovingly. Crabbe and Goyle grumbled as they let Harry go and the younger Malfoy quickly ran to Draco and held him by his shoulders, staring into Draco’s eyes.

“Draco—what were you thinking?” he demanded. His brother didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at Harry for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nothing,” he said rudely, “Let go, we need to get to class.”

“Draco—”

“I said nothing Harry!” Draco shouted. “Leave it!”

“Fine!” Harry yelled back and stomped away angrily.

The brothers were angry at each other for two days afterward. They barely talked to each other, barely even looked at each other, and only really acknowledged the other’s existence when asking for them to pass food. It wasn’t until Wednesday almost midnight, both exhausted from Astronomy that they forgot that they were angry at each other. It was a very cold night that night, so after dressing for bed Harry went into his brother’s instead of his own, and the two laid close to share body heat and fell asleep without a word. The next day, the brothers went on with life as normal, acting the same as always as though their little outburst did not happen.

Harry walked with Draco to McGonagall’s office for his detention. When she saw both of them, she raised an eyebrow. “I am sorry Mr. Malfoy, but you cannot share your brother’s burden of detention,” she said to Harry.

“Oh, I’m sorry Professor McGonagall, I just walked him here,” Harry answered.

“Thank you for that Mr. Malfoy, now have a good night. Draco, inside,” Professor McGonagall said. Harry blushed embarrassed and nodded. He took a step back as Draco stepped inside.

“I’ll see you in the dormitory,” Harry said, giving his brother a hopeful smile. Draco just nodded and the door was shut.

Ron was already in the office, sulking in a chair in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk. The transfiguration teacher escorted Draco to her desk and indicated for him to sit next to Ron as she returned to her seat. “Good evening gentlemen,” she said, looking at the two of them. “For the next hour and ninety minutes, I will ask that the two of you smarten up your cooperation and work to reorganize my files my date.” She pointed towards a few filing cabinets in the corner. Every drawer was pulled out and the papers were littered around as though ejected from the drawers at superfast speed. “Peeves have decided it was good fun to mess with my filing as retaliation, I have no doubt, for me hexing the annoying apparition off of the chandeliers in the teacher’s lounge. What you do not finish today, you will take care of tomorrow night. You may begin.”

Draco wordlessly slipped off his chair and moved to the piles of paper. He knelt down and looked at the drawers, thankful that they were all clearly labeled by year. Ron followed him and the two were unnaturally quiet as they worked. Draco kept his head down, not wanting to look at the redhead or Professor McGonagall. _Just get this done and go to the boy’s dormitory to sleep,_ he thought.

The only sound in the office was from Professor McGonagall who was marking papers, her quill giving soft scratches that broke through a tense quiet that build between Ron and Draco. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco kept seeing Ron glance at him but did his best to ignore it. Half an hour passed like this until the quiet seemed to be too much for Ron who whispered, “Malfoy, oi Malfoy!”

“What Weasley?” Draco sighed.

“You’re weird,” Ron whispered. “What was going on back there? With you keep yelling that you’re not Parkinson?”

Draco froze. He looked at Ron, doing his best to keep a neutral face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered.

“Yes you do,” Ron insisted.

“I’m a boy, I’m not like Parkinson,” Draco said. “I’m a boy, not a girl. That’s just how it is.”

Ron just stared at Draco, confused. “Course you’re not a girl, stupid, you’re annoying,” he muttered. “A slimy annoying git.” Draco gave Ron a harsh look but turned back to his task.

“Course I’m a boy, dummy,” he muttered, and that was where it was left. The remaining time of their detention was spent in silence. When the ninety minutes were up, they had most of the mess filed and cleaned up, everything they couldn’t put away was instead put into a couple of neat piles on the ground. Professor McGonagall just nodded at that and said, “You both will come back tomorrow after class. Goodnight.”

Draco left wordlessly. He could feel Ron watching him but did not look back. Instead, he just returned to the Slytherin Dormitory where Harry was waiting for him. The brothers talked for a while before heading to bed. The next day went along as usual, and both he and Ron were silent as they were in Professor McGonagall’s office once more, taking an hour to finish filing.

September was finally over, and October had arrived with chilling winds and rainy days. The Malfoy brothers were doing excellent to well in all of their classes, and ever since the Flipendo Incident, which Blaise lovingly and jokingly coined, there has still been no practical lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not that Harry noticed. The smell in the classroom seemed to be getting stronger, and his head hurt even more so. One day after a lesson that left him with a splitting headache, Harry went to the Slytherin dormitory to lay on a couch only for Sophia to slither towards him, coiling on his stomach. _“You smell horrible,”_ she said.

 _“Gee, thanks,”_ Harry groaned. _“I have a splitting headache.”_

 _“Don’t tell me you are becoming like the two-faced man as well, boy,”_ Sophia said. _“Are you going to go drink Unicorn blood a well?”_

Harry stared at her, confused. _“What do you mean?”_ he asked.

 _“You reek just like the man with two faces, it’s very obvious,”_ the snake said, darting out her tongue as she hissed and smell only to shake her head as though revolted from the garlicky smell that hung on Harry’s robes.

 _“I do?”_ Harry asked, a cold realization coming over him. He just stared at Sophia as the snake nodded once more. He shot up, Sophia falling to his lap and hissing angrily at him. _“I—I have to go,”_ he said, hesitating only for a moment to safely take Sophia off his lap before standing. Sophia just watched silently as he left the common room in a haze.

Before he knew it, he found his way to Professor Quirrell’s classroom, where the man was along and muttering to himself. “M-Master please, I-I am doing the best I can! The d-d-dog almost bit my leg off! A-A-And Snape is always following!” There was silence and Quirrell whimpered pathetically, falling onto his hands and knees. “Please Master,” he begged, “B-Be merciful, I can try again! I-I can bring a troll!” Silence once more and Quirrell froze. He looked up quickly. Harry for a moment thought that Quirrell say him. The small boy felt his body stiffen in fear as Quirrell stood up. He squeezed his eyes and took a breath, doing his best to calm himself.

Harry knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Quirrell said in a soft voice.

Harry walked in with small steps, doing his best to try and stay causal as he looked at Professor Quirrell. The rotten garlicky smell overtook his senses immediately, but Harry kept his eyes on Professor Quirrell as he came closer. “Sir?” he stared, sounding hesitant.

“What is it? Speak up!” Quirrell demanded, his stutter somehow gone.

“I uh wanted to ask you some questions, about something I read about in a book,” Harry said, glancing between Quirrell and a window. “Is it true, sir, that there are some creatures that can talk with others? Like um, snakes can talk to other snake-like creatures?”

“S-Snakes, right,” Quirrell said. He glanced around and, as if picking up a performance once more, his stutter returned. “Wh-What do you mean, Mr. Ma-Malfoy?”

Harry thought for a moment, glancing at him. “I mean, that there’s a snake in Hogwarts, she’s a friend of mine,” he decided to tell the truth as vaguely as he could. “She told me that one day she was in the forbidden forest and she saw a strange creature, Professor. It looked like a man but with two faces,” Harry continued, taking a step backward. “It was drinking unicorn blood and the strange thing was that while one face could understand her, the other couldn’t. So I was wondering if it is possible if there could be creatures that understand each other, and um if that is the case then how can one face understand a snake, but the other doesn’t.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Quirrell said, but his face started to pale. “What do you mean that a snake t-t-told you?”

Harry blinked at him, “Haven’t you heard?” Harry asked innocently. “I’m a Parselmouth, I can speak to snakes. I thought that I was the only person like that, but Sophia told me there was another, a two-faced man… and he smells exactly like you, Professor.” He smiled only for a minute before his head started to ache again. He groaned and his hand shot to his scar. For the first time in his life, it hurt. The lightning-bolt scar on his forehead burned, as though agitated. Quirrell stared, as though oblivious and blubbering to someone Harry couldn’t see. “M-Master I’m sorry I did not know!”

Harry’s scar surged again with pain and he could feel a warm liquid oozing from it. He pressed his hand once more against it and pulled back to see blood. Then he heard it. A second voice that seemed to come from somewhere in the room. It was faint, weak, and barely above a whisper.

 _“How did you not know about Harry Potter’s ability?”_ The voice sent a shock of fear down Harry’s spine. Quirrell doubled over in pain and Harry ran just as the voice yelled at Quirrell to chase him. Harry did not look back; he was too busy running and chastising himself for even doing this. What was he thinking? He had to find a professor, or even Dumbledore, or else who knows what would happen to him. They were on the ground floor, and the closest teacher’s office that Harry knew of was unfortunately Professor Snape’s down in the dungeon.

So he ran towards there. Not knowing any shortcuts or secret tunnels, Harry had to navigate the hallways, yelling apologies as he had to weave through taller and older students. When he reached the entrance hall, he took the steps down to the dungeons two at a time, almost tripping in the rush. The smell of garlic never left, and Harry was afraid to look behind him. He did not know how close or far away Quirrell was, but it didn’t matter. His head was in pain as though being split open, and his scar was now bleeding freely, the blood mixing with his sweat as it dripped down. He had to wipe it away constantly but that only brought another stinging pain as his hand brushed against the scar.

Harry hoped that almost two months’ worth of traversing the dungeons was enough for him to outpace Quirrell. The corridors all looked almost identical and his heart sped with a sense of relief and dread as he has gotten closer to Professor Snape’s office. He did not even knock once he reached the wooden door, instead, slamming it open to see that Snape was by his desk, measuring ingredients. “Malfoy!” he yelled, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Quirrell—Quirrell is chasing me,” Harry panted. “I need Dumbledore, please Professor! He’s the two-faced man!”

Snape just stared at Harry. “I do not have time for your nonsense Malfoy, now leave,” he said.

“Please sir you have to believe me!” Harry begged. “Quirrell has two faces! The second face can speak to snakes like I can and when it talked my scar started to hurt and bleed! It has never happened before!”

Snape stared at the child and, with a wave of his wand, the blood on his face was cleaned away. “Next time go to the Hospital Wing, Malfoy, to get your scar examined. Do not come to me with some ludicrous story.”

“But sir, it’s true! The snake told me herself,” Harry said, stepping further into the office. “She was in the forest when she found him! A two-faced man drinking unicorn’s blood. Please, Blaise was there too, you can ask him! Just please get Dumbledore here.”

“Drinking Unicorn’s Blood? And how did you come up with this little tidbit, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor Snape asked. “Remembered it from a children’s story? This game is getting tiresome and, honestly, insulting to all of us involved. Wouldn’t you agree, Professor Quirrell?”

The garlic smell invaded Harry once more. He turned with horror, to see Professor Quirrell standing behind him. He looked cruel and cold, completely the opposite of his usual stuttering self.

“Yes, Severus,” Quirrell said without a stutter. “Very insulting.” Harry tried to get away but Quirrell’s hand latched onto his shoulder, holding it with more strength than the man should have. “However you do not need to worry, I am sure Mr. Potter will be more than willing to atone after a detention with me.”

“I am certain,” Snape said, “However, his name is Malfoy.”

Quirrell blinked. “Yes, sorry,” he said a little weaker.

“Professor, please! You have to believe me,” Harry said, screaming at the top of his lungs. “He called the second voice Master!”

Snape sighed, “Mr. Malfoy, I have quite enough of your fairytales. I do not have the time nor patience to deal with your foolishness. Good day.”

Quirrell chuckled and tightened the grip on Harry’s robes. “Come on Malfoy,” he said. “We have quite a bit to talk about.”

He pulled Harry out of Snape’s office, and Harry’s hope died as he saw the doors closed by itself. He tried to struggle away but it was impossible. Students surrounded them as they walked into the entrance hall. Harry looked around, hoping that someone would see what was wrong with the two of them. He tried to scream but found that his voice was gone. He opened his mouth and tried his hardest but looked only as though he was yawning. Quirrell brought Harry not to the ground floor corridors, but towards the marble staircase. Harry panicked and wondered where they were going.

 _I’m sorry Draco, I’m sorry Blaise, I’m sorry Remus, Sirius… I’m sorry Mum and Dad,_ he cried mentally, his heart sinking lower and lower with each step they took. The two-faced man was going to kill him. Harry did not want to even think about it, but as they walked further away from the ground floor, it seemed to become almost inevitable.

Professor Quirrell brought Harry to the third-floor landing and a new wave of terror flooded Harry as they entered the forbidden corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that. Upload schedule is going to be a bit hectic. Working on a new story and finishing Mors et Tempus kind of threw me off.


	14. Defeats and Depressions

Chapter 14

Defeats and Depressions

The third-floor corridor was very dirty with thick layers of dust and cobwebs hanging from suits of armor and torches that took a while to spark to life as Professor Quirrell continued to drag Harry. “You are going to help me, boy,” Quirrell said coldly. “I need a distraction past that dog, and you will do nicely.”

He seemed to be dragging Harry towards one door in particular, and he could hear something behind it. A low growl that shook Harry. He looked around helplessly and tried to beg for Quirrell to stop only for his voice to still be gone. They were getting closer to the door, and as though it sensed them, whatever was behind it started to growl louder. There were vicious barks, and Harry continued to try and get out of Quirrell’s grip.

“I think that is far enough, Quirinus,” a calm even voice said. “Now let Harry Malfoy go.”

The two stopped and turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing calmly at the corridor’s entrance, along with Professor Snape. “P-Professor,” Quirrell stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“A question I would like to ask you as well, Quirinus,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Now, step away from the door and let go of Harry.” He pulled out his wand, Snape’s wand already trained on Quirrell.

“Stop! Don’t move,” Quirrell threatened. “I will kill the child if you take one step closer!” His hand moved from Harry’s shoulder to his throat, gripping tightly. Harry felt his airways cut off for only a second. His scar exploded with pain and both he and Quirrell screamed as Quirrell threw Harry away, his hand burning with angry scars and blisters. “What—what is happening?” Quirrell screamed as he stared at his hand. The second voice, louder than ever before, filled the corridor as it yelled, _“Kill him!”_

Quirrell lunged for Harry once more but the moment he touched Harry’s skin, more burns and blisters erupted. “Master I can’t touch him!” he screamed, backing away from Harry. He was far enough that both Snape and Dumbledore could safely cast Stunning Spells towards the man without fear of hitting Harry.

The two scarlet spells joined and before they hit Quirrell, something incredible happened. Brown specks of dust or something erupted from Quirrell’s body, floating above the man, and morphed into a noseless face that screamed in anguish before flying away, the torches going out as it passed. The spells finally hit the body, and it slunk to the floor. Harry quickly pushed away from both Quirrell and the door, keeping one hand on his scar as he pressed against a wall. His groans snaped Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape out of their shock. Dumbledore went to Harry while Snape stepped cautiously towards Quirrell.

“Harry, on thank heavens you are whole,” Dumbledore said, moving his wand around Harry’s body. His scar still ached, and it was almost hard to think. Harry opened his mouth and found that, at last, he could talk. “What happened?” he demanded.

“That is something that I too would like to know,” Dumbledore said. “But the important thing is that you are safe.”

“What was that?” Harry continued. “Quirrell—Professor Quirrell tried to kill me! What was that face I saw?”

Dumbledore’s worried face fell, and he glanced at Quirrell’s body before looking at Harry. “Voldemort,” he muttered. “I had my suspicions, of course, but never have I thought that it was true.”

“Vold—You-Know-Who was the second face?” Harry asked. His scar’s pain started to dim slightly, but the bleeding did not stop. Dumbledore gently took Harry’s hand and pulled it off of Harry’s scar and cleaned it with his wand, casting another spell to stop the bleeding.

“Voldemort, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “We should not fear saying his name. And yes, Voldemort was the second face of the two-faced man you and your snake companion were scared of.”

“How—Professor what was he going to do to me? How did you know to come save me?” Harry asked, very confused. He tried to space out the two questions but found that he couldn’t stop talking.

“We are here because of your quick thinking, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Though I wish you were completely out of danger, it was your intuition in questioning Professor Quirrell and then running to Professor Snape that made this possible. You see, Harry, there is something in this school, something an old friend and I both had a hand in creating actually, that would have allowed him to return in a powerful body.” He looked towards the door where the growling was coming from and smiled, “That is where we have decided to protect it, each of us, Professor Quirrell included, adding one thing to help keep it safe.”

“Then what…”

“A three-headed dog that Hagrid has affectionately named Fluffy,” Dumbledore chuckled. “I am told that he is quite a soft-hearted dog and a great lover of music.”

Harry frowned and stared at the door. A three-headed dog living behind it? It seemed improbable. He looked back at Dumbledore and asked, “Is he gone? Voldemort?”

Dumbledore sighed, “I cannot tell you for sure, but I can promise you that you have nothing to fear from Voldemort.”

Harry just nodded and frowned, “Sir? What would have happened if I didn’t go? If I didn’t question Professor Quirrell like a stupid-person?”

“It was not stupid of you Harry,” Dumbledore said immediately. “Do not sell yourself short. You were smart in following your worries, however perhaps next time you inform a facility member about them.”

“I did, I told Snape and he didn’t believe me!” Harry said, glancing at his Head of House. “He hates me.”

“I am sure that he doesn’t,” Dumbledore said reassuringly.

There was a moment of silence that was broken as Snape stood from examining the body. “He is dead,” he said simply.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. “Can you stand, Harry?” he asked, “Let’s get you to the Hospital Wing.”

Harry stood up and glanced at Quirrell’s body. He still did not know what really happened. His head was still full of questions, such as how could it be that Voldemort could get inside here in the first place, however, with Quirrell dead and the Headmaster looking equally puzzled, Harry figured that his questions will be left unanswered.

Professor Dumbledore brought Harry to the Hospital Wing before telling him that he was going off to write a letter to his parents about what happened. Harry had just changed into a pair of hospital pajamas and got into a bed before Draco ran in, followed by Blaise, Theo, and Daphne. “Harry!”

“No running in my hospital wing, Mr. Malfoy!” Madam Pomfrey, an old kind but strict-looking woman, said the moment she saw them. “Do not crowd him!” she said as the four all gathered around Harry’s bed.

The first-years ignored her as Draco asked, “What happened? People were talking about how you and Quirrell went into the forbidden corridor!”

“And you were acting weird in the common room after talking to that snake,” Daphne added.

“Are you okay? Why is there blood around your scar?” Blaise demanded.

“Give him space,” Theo said as he sat on an empty bed next to Harry’s. The three all blushed and looked around before taking a step back.

“I don’t really understand it myself,” Harry admitted. “I think my head is still catching up to what happened, but it all goes back to the two-faced man Sophia told me about.” He told the three everything that happened, from when Sophia first told him about the man with two faces to how he always felt a headache or not fully there in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his encounter with Professor Quirrell. When he was done, the others were stunned speechless. Draco immediately got into bed with Harry and pulled him into a tight hug while the others just stared at him.

Blaise sat on Harry’s edge and looked at the two before smiling, “Hey, at least we got this over with before Halloween,” he joked. “Imagine if it took us the entire school year to figure this out?”

Harry gave a soft chuckle and nodded, “I guess,” he said. “But I still have questions like what exactly Voldemort wants.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” Theo said. The others all looked at him. The quiet Slytherin stared back before shrugging, “It makes sense I think,” he added. “You-Know-Who is looking for a way to get a new body, and Dumbledore told Harry that what is hidden away is a thing made by Dumbledore himself and a friend of his. The Stone is the only thing that I can think of that fits both.”

“Well, does it matter now?” Blaise asked.

“It does to me,” Theo shrugged again. “And Harry too, I think.” Harry nodded.

“Yeah, it’s good to know now,” Harry nodded.

“Well good we know, now what?” Blaise asked looking at them. “I mean, what are we going to do now?”

“Nothing,” Draco said. “We are going to have a normal year with no more attempted murders or else.”

“Oh really?” Blaise asked, a joking smile playing his lips. “What are you going to do if I look for trouble, Malfoy?”

“Send Harry your way,” Draco muttered. “Now be quiet, I’m with my brother.” Harry rolled his eyes but smiled as he fixed the pillows so both Malfoys would be comfortable. Talk quickly shifted away from the incident, and the four lost track of time.

The doors burst open and Mrs. Malfoy ran in with her husband walking in rather calmly afterward. “Harry! Oh, thank goodness you are alright,” Mrs. Malfoy said, hugging both of her sons. “We got here as soon as we got Dumbledore’s letter, we just finished talking with the headmaster! Though I cannot find that Potions Master of yours! The moment I see that greasy-haired man, why I am going to—” she cut herself off before she could describe the many horrors and headaches that awaited Professor Snape.

Mr. Malfoy grumbled something under his breath that Harry could not hear. He reached the bed and glanced at the two boys, frowning. “Draco, I thought that only Harry was injured,” he said.

“Sorry father,” Draco muttered. Harry immediately felt colder as Draco shuffled off of the bed and walked around to stand with the others. Mr. Malfoy glanced towards Harry and sighed, “I thought I told you both to stay away from trouble,” he said.

“It wasn’t my fault, Sophia warned me about Voldemort,” Harry said. The adults jumped and Mr. Malfoy quickly said, “Do not say the Dark Lord’s name, Harry!”

“But Dumbledore says that we should not fear saying his name,” Harry said. Mr. Malfoy frowned. “It is not out of fear that I do not say his name, Harry.”

Harry did not understand what he meant. Instead, he looked at his parents and said, “I did not look for trouble, it just found me.”

“We know that Harry,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “however your father is right, instead of trying to deal with it yourself, you should have gone to a teacher about this.”

“I have and he didn’t believe me, and then immediately afterward Quirrell brought me to the forbidden third-floor corridor,” Harry said simply.

“Either way, we are all happy that you are alive, right Lucius?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“Of course,” Mr. Malfoy said, nodding. “However I trust that you will do your best to keep from further death-defying trouble for the rest of the year at least?”

“Yes, dad,” Harry nodded, smiling.

“Good,” Mr. Malfoy said shortly. He gave Harry a final look and turned to leave. Mrs. Malfoy shook her head and stayed a little longer, talking with the children about school before leaving as well, promising to update all of their mothers after she finds a certain Potions Master.

Before long, Madam Pomfrey came in to shoo the others out, telling them that visiting hours are over. “Harry, I’ll be back,” Blaise promised, winking at him. Harry just nodded and sat up as Madam Pomfrey came to his bed to check on him. “You are going to stay the night, Mr. Malfoy. Headmaster Dumbledore wants to make sure that your scar doesn’t bleed or cause any more pain—how does it feel now?”

“The pain is gone, ma’am,” Harry answered.

“Good. Obviously, you’re having dinner here—drink this to help with your throat,” she gave him a potion that spilled into his mouth very lightly. A few minutes later, a tray appeared with food and Harry ate in silence. Madam Pomfrey came by a couple of hours later to check up on him before leaving him alone once more.

It was around nine at night. The moon was out in full, moonlight filtering through the windows, and Harry was bored as sleep refused to come to him. He heard something and looked around. The door to the hospital wing creaked open softly and Blaise Zabini walked in grinning, dressed in his pajamas, and holding a small napkinned bag. “Hello husband,” he grinned, “I brought cookies!”

Harry laughed and grinned back at Blaise. He sat up taller and moved to the side so there was room for Blaise. “What kind?” he asked.

“Your favorite, dark chocolate chips,” Blaise said. “So can I sit on your bed?”

“Hmm, okay,” Harry said. Blaise got on his bed and opened the napkin. There were six cookies, and Blaise gave Harry four of them.

“So, how’s sitting here?”

“Boring,” Harry groaned. “They want to make sure that my scar doesn’t bleed or hurt anymore but I don’t feel any pain!”

“Then let’s celebrate that! And for sleeping in a room without Crabbe and Goyle,” Blaise said. Harry agreed, smiling as he ate his cookie. The two talked freely, saying anything and everything that came to mind. Harry felt more relaxed than ever and, after a couple of hours, actually started to feel sleepy. He yawned and blinked to keep himself awake. “Blaise, wanna sleep with me?” he asked.

“What!?”

“Sleep with me,” Harry repeated. “You know, like how Draco and I sleep together sometimes.”

“Oh! Oh yeah, I knew that,” Blaise said. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah Harry, of course.”

Harry opened his covers and let Blaise in. The two boys shuffled until they were both comfortable. “Hey, Harry,” Blaise hissed.

“Yeah?”

“We should do this more often!” Blaise grinned.

“You mean sleep in the same bed?” Harry asked. He hummed and stuck his tongue out. “Let’s see, how about for ten cookies?”

“Deal!” Blaise said quickly and the two laughed before sleep finally took them. As with any and all rumors in Hogwarts, the events in the third-floor corridor was known by everyone within two days. A man who was completely boring replaced Professor Quirrell by the end of the week and the only thing that Harry liked about him was that he allowed them to do practical lessons. The rumors died away by Halloween and Harry’s first year just continued on as boringly usual. There were no more conspiracy or deadly trials, no threat to his life, and all in all, Harry really liked it that way. He continued to wear his favorite robes and colors during the weekend and even roped Draco in a few weeks to dress in lighter colors as well.

It was May, and Draco found himself alone in the boy’s dormitory. His face was red with a strange blush as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wore Harry’s pinkest robes and stared at it, holding the robes as his waist so that as he moved his hips, the bottoms of the robes swished around as though it was a long skirt. A smile played Draco’s lips until he saw himself smile. His father’s voice played in his mind, “What do you think you are doing, Draco?”

Disgust filled him and he quickly tore the robes off and ran away from the mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: they be TEENS!


	15. Teenage Problems

Chapter 15

Teenage Problems

The Malfoys were now thirteen years old. It was inevitable, but still, with their second year passing by quickly with nothing really interesting happening, besides having a very ineffective teacher called Professor Lockhart, Harry found himself standing around one day in early August with this revelation. He and Draco are now thirteen. They’re teenagers! Which means that he needs a new diary, a completely new diary to help keep his new teenage thoughts in place. His old diary was fine and mostly filled with his entries from his first and second years at Hogwarts. But that was then when he was a pre-teen. But now, he is a teenager. With hormones and puberty on the way! If they were not already affecting him. Harry did found himself, thinking back on it, feeling his body strangely itchy, and he was sure there was something under his arms, but he couldn’t be sure. The main point was that Harry was looking over his room for a spare diary but found none. He frowned and crossed his arms. “Dobby?” he called out, “Dobby?”

There was a crack and the house-elf appeared. “What can Dobby be doing for Master Harry Malfoy?” he asked.

“Dobby, do you know where my blank diaries are?” Harry asked. “They’re small black books with empty pages.”

“Those were Master Harry’s?” Dobby asked.

“Yeah, I can’t find them—no don’t!” Harry shouted as Dobby quickly ran to the door to punish himself. “I told you not to do that!” Harry said, running frantically to stop Dobby and holding the door.

“Dobby made terrible mistake!” Dobby cried, “Dobby must be punished!”

“You didn’t make a mistake, just tell me where they are,” Harry said, “it’s okay Dobby, really.”

“Dobby thought—Dobby thought that the books were Master Lucius’s,” Dobby cried, “so Dobby put them back in Master Lucius Malfoy’s study!”

“They’re in dad’s study? Okay,” Harry nodded. “I can sneak in there, so stop crying, understand? And no punishment! In fact… I order you to take a twenty-minute nap.” Dobby stared at Harry, confused. Harry sighed and said in a gentler tone, “Go take a break Dobby, and please don’t hurt yourself?”

“Master Harry Malfoy is very kind,” Dobby said, his huge eyes welling with tears. He stepped away from the door and nodded at Harry, bowing deeply, and thanking him before disappearing.

Harry smiled; he now knew where his diaries were. It would be a simple manner of just going into his father’s study, hopefully with the man not in there, and pulling one out. Harry and Draco were not allowed in their father’s study. He remembered when one time he and Draco tried to sneak in only for Mr. Malfoy to use magic to throw them out before giving them very loud and very long talking to. However, Harry knew that his father was out of his office. Earlier today he left for the Ministry, and Harry overheard his dad tell his mum that he’ll be there all day. So Harry was free to sneak into his father’s study without any trouble or threat of punishment. Even so, Harry felt his heart fastened as he approached Mr. Malfoy’s study and even pressed his ear to the door to make sure that it was certainly empty.

Hearing nothing on the other side, Harry smirked playfully as he slowly pushed the door opened and snuck inside. The study was rather large with a huge desk in the center, behind which was a very wide window that whose curtains were currently drawn halfway, the morning light still drifting in. There were many cabinets pressed against the right wall, with the opposite holding a large bookcase filled with various books ranging from ancient and expensive to currently new and topical. Harry went to the bookcase and immediately started browsing the rows in search for his diary.

It took Harry a while, but finally he found, tucked in the corner, two small black books. He pulled the first one out and smiled as he saw his handwriting before taking the second one, his smile growing as he flipped through the empty pages. As he held the diary he noticed that the pages were already a nice yellow color, and on the back of the front cover, there were words inscribed. _T.M. Riddle._

 _Huh,_ Harry thought, _this must have been second-hand. Weird though, for a person to only write their name on it._ He shrugged this off, for it is his now after all, and with both books in hand he left his father’s study, stopping only to make sure that there was no possible way that Mr. Malfoy could even guess that he was inside.

Satisfied that his heist was unsolvable, Harry returned to his room, deciding to make the first entry in his diary, just to get it started. Back in his room, Harry placed his old diary with his other books on a small bookshelf and sat down at his desk, ink and quill out and ready. He dipped his quill into the ink bottle and hovered his hand over the page as he thought of how to start the entry.

“Harry!” his brother yelled out from somewhere in the manor. “Harry! Get out here! Blaise and Theo are here and we’re going to play Quidditch!”

“Coming!” Harry said. In his excitement to go play Quidditch, he did not notice ink falling from the quill and sloshing onto the pages, being absorbed a second later so that the page was clean.

Harry quickly ran out to the backyard where Draco was waiting with their Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomsticks. He smiled and waved as he saw Draco and his friends, only to stop when Blaise turned to look at him.

Blaise seemed to have changed immensely. He was taller now, much taller than Harry, and when he smiled at Harry, the teen couldn’t help but notice the huge dimples that developed on his cheeks. His skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his hair was absolutely perfect. The thirteen-year-old ran towards Harry and his smile grew, showing rows of perfect white teeth. “Harry! There you are, it’s been forever!” Blaise said, pulling Harry into a hug. The Malfoy did not know why, but he found himself blushing. _Was Blaise’s arms bigger?_ Harry found himself staring at Blaise’s arms as they hugged. Blaise had always been a skinny boy, but yet his arms did feel and look a little bigger, not from eating but by something else. Blaise saw this and smirked stepping back. “Saw my arms Harry?” he grinned, and he brought both arms up in a flex, showing small defined biceps. “I’m getting _huge!_ The teenager grinned. “I was talking with Flint and there’s going to be an opening on the Quidditch team for Beaters, and I’m going to be one of them! So I was talking with my uncle and he taught me how to get big! Impressed, Harry?”

“By your pebbles? Oh please, Blaise,” Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

Harry felt his cheeks turn red, but he didn’t know why. He just stared at Blaise’s arms before looking at his smiling face and found that he was lost for words. “I… nice… you,” he sputtered. He was mortified. Why couldn’t he say what he wanted? Blaise just grinned and slung an arm over his shoulders as he always did. “Well, Harry likes my muscles Draco, you’re just jealous.” He teased.

“Can we play Quidditch, please?” Theodore Nott said, looking at the three. “I still have to finish the essay for Professor McGonagall.”

“Right! Let’s play!” Blaise grinned, “You’re on my team Harry,” he grinned and jostled Harry. The Malfoy only sputtered some more and nodded as his blush spread.

Harry tried his best to keep his mind on the game, he really did, however, he always found himself looking for Blaise. He found his ears always picking up Blaise’s voice above all others, as his eyes fall on him. It seemed that no matter what Harry did, he always had his attention on Blaise. That said, he was able to play and he did have fun with the others. They played the morning and most of the afternoon away, and when they finally landed Harry, Draco, Blaise, and Theo found that they were really sweaty. Something that usually made Harry’s nose scrunch up but yet, as he looked at Blaise, he found himself staring once more.

His shirt was wet, but he didn’t seem to mind as the sweat seemed to make his skin glow even more. Harry once again found his cheeks blushing and he swallowed quickly as Blaise turned to him, “Harry, you okay?” he asked.

“I—” Harry did not know what to say, he looked around but saw that Theo and Draco were already walking towards the manor to wash up. Blaise took a step towards Harry, looking at him concerned.

“Are you getting sick? Here let me compare temperatures,” Blaise said, and before Harry could respond, Blaise had his hand on his forehead and Harry froze as Blaise held his hand on Harry’s forehead while touching his own with his free hand. He frowned, “Feels hot but we were just playing a lot of Quidditch,” he muttered. “Maybe a shower would make you feel good?”

“I—yeah,” Harry nodded jerkily. His legs felt like jelly at that moment as Blaise stepped away, putting his hands down. A whine came from the back of Harry’s throat as he found himself missing the touch. _What is wrong with me?_ He thought as he stared at Blaise some more, watching the teen turn and walk away to the manor. It took Harry a moment to get his feet moving again and follow Blaise inside.

The four cleaned themselves before Mrs. Malfoy could catch them walking around sweaty and they moved into Draco’s room to lounge around for the rest of the afternoon. Blaise was sitting close to Harry and the Malfoy was all too aware of their close distance, and the strange want inside him that urged him to go closer. He refused to listen to that and instead tried to focus on other things.

Mr. Malfoy arrived home at half-past six and greeted Blaise and Theo as they left. Now alone, Harry returned to his room, his head still feeling cloudy from all the blushing he did. He found himself sitting in front of his blank diary and began to write.

_This will be a weird first entry because of Blaise. So hello new diary, my name is Harry James Potter-Malfoy, and I do not know where to begin with what happened today._

He paused to think only to gasp. His words, which he took careful time to write clearly, were fading into the page. A second passed and words started to write themselves, words that Harry did not write.

_“Hello, Harry James Potter-Malfoy. How is that you’ve gotten possession of my diary?”_

Harry stopped. He almost dropped his quill as he stared at the words in front of him. The Diary talked back! Was that possible? Harry couldn’t understand. Cautiously, he dipped his quill into the ink bottle once more and wrote, _What do you mean by your diary? The diary is mine. What, or who, are you?_

Once more his words faded into the diary, disappearing into it before the ink bled out the diary’s response. “ _My name is Tom Riddle. I’ve recorded my memories, luckily, in something much more durable than ink inside here. I always knew that there would be those who do not want this diary read.”_

Harry was amused yet also worried. The diary was talking back to him, that was worrying, and yet it seemed strangely comfortable to him. He did not know why but strange feelings were bubbling inside him. Maybe he could talk with this Tom person? Share secrets? He replied. _Would that also mean that my secrets would be safe too? That nobody can read them if I write them down?_

_“If it would comfort you, then yes. I too had many secrets that I would not dare want anyone to read, which is why I made my diary this way. But tell me, where exactly are we, Harry?”_

_We’re in my room,_ Harry replied. _In Malfoy Manor. It is August 2 nd, and I’m currently on summer break from Hogwarts._

_“I see, strange that my diary has found itself to you. Hogwarts, you say? If you do not mind, what year are you in, as well as what House?”_

It was a simple, reasonable question, Harry figured. He was going to use the diary as intended, and it would be nice if Tom had proper background information to respond so with another dip in his ink, Harry wrote back almost happily.

_I’m starting my third year in September. I’m in Slytherin along with my older brother Draco and our friends._

_“Slytherin? Good, I too went to Slytherin when I attended Hogwarts. But that was a long time ago, Harry.”_ Tom was in Slytherin too? This information made Harry smile a little. He looked around his room, as though to make sure he was alone with the diary, and then turned his attention back to it.

 _Yeah, however when I first got sorted, people were not happy with it._ He didn’t know what made him want to talk about it with Tom, maybe because the dairy was new, or that Tom needed this information? Either way, Harry found his secrets pouring out as he wrote. _I’m adopted, Mum and Dad adopted me when I was four. My birth parents were killed by a Dark Wizard named Voldemort, and for some time I lived with my mother’s muggle relatives who treated me awfully. However, father found me one day and I lived with my family ever since. My birth parents were Gryffindors, and the Potters had a history of always being in Gryffindor so even though I am a Malfoy, and has been raised by them, a lot of people have been expecting me to be in Gryffindor, and when I was sorted into Slytherin people were angry._

Harry watched his words disappeared and waited with bated breath for Tom’s reply. It came quickly. _“What an interesting life you had, and it does not matter who your parents are, Harry. You are your own person. Those who believe you will become a lion simply because of your ancestry are wrong.”_

 _I know, but that is not the only reason people treated me differently,_ Harry found himself writing. _I can talk to snakes. Something that only Slytherin’s descendants can do, and I’m not a direct descendant from Slytherin._

 _“Interesting, thank you for sharing this with me, Harry. I am glad that my diary has found its way to you,”_ was Riddle’s reply. _“Now, what was it you wanted to write about before I replied? I am sure that you have many thoughts you wish to write down.”_

Harry blinked before remembering his strange feelings about Blaise. He found his blush returning and nodded. He quickly wrote down everything he could remember before being summoned to dinner. _“Do not worry Harry, I will hold onto your words until you come back. Go enjoy your supper,”_ Tom wrote, and comforted by his words, Harry did so.

He ran down the stairs, feeling almost a giddy anxiety. He couldn’t wait to be back with the diary, to get back to talking with Tom! His new secret friend. However, he refused to make it obvious. He sat with his family and talked as normally and politely as he could. When dinner was done, Harry excused himself and after a shower, he spent the night away, talking with his diary.

As Harry conversed with Tom, he did not notice that the door opened, and a nervous teen snuck in towards Harry’s wardrobe. Opening it silently, the teen pulled out several of Harry’s more femininely colored robes and snuck out after closing the wardrobe. With the robes in hand, Draco ran back to his own room and placed the robes on his bed, where he also had an old dress he stolen from his mother, as well as some of her shoes. He made sure the door was locked before taking off all of his clothes and stood in front of the mirror.

He was skinny with pale skin that could honestly use more sunlight. For a thirteen-year-old, Draco could be seen as fit however as the blond stared at his body, as he turned and continued to gaze at himself, he couldn’t help but feel something was off, something was wrong, almost ugly about him. He looked at the clothes on the bed and swallowed heavily as pressure began pressing against his stomach and heart. His hands sweating and shaking, he turned from the mirror and made his way to the bed.

 _Harry’s clothes first. Boy clothes… these are boy clothes,_ he thought. Draco took a breath and put the robes on. He turned to the corner and stared at himself. It was the pink robes, and they looked a little small on him, almost hugging his figure. Draco went to take a belt out of his own wardrobe and buckled it tightly against his waist. He looked at his reflection. What he saw was himself, just himself wearing pink. _These are boy clothes, boy clothes,_ he thought. He felt comfortable in them, but still confused. He turned around, watching his reflection moved around and the ends of the robes flow like a skirt. The thought made him smile if only for a second. He then tried on other of Harry’s robes, lighter colors that he would never let his father see him wear. In each one he felt happy, satisfied with what he saw in the mirror but still, there was something missing, he did not feel whole.

He saved his mother’s dress for last. _I’m so sorry mother,_ Draco thought to himself. He took off Harry’s robes and started to put on the dress, refusing to look at the mirror as he did so. The top felt weird as it pressed against his flat chest but other than that everything hugged his body nicely and still refusing to look at the mirror, Draco carefully slipped on his mother’s heels. They were weird to walk in and he felt unstable, but he kept at it, taking those few hazardous steps towards the mirror, and finally looked.

_Pretty._

That was what he thought. Draco stared at the mirror and thought he was pretty. It was a nice dress, a dark emerald color, and the shoes matched. Draco found himself smiling at his reflection and did a practiced twirl, liking the way the dress ebbed and flowed around him. He looked very pretty. _This is a girl’s dress_ he thought, and for a fraction of a second, he felt comfortable in it before reality struck him.

His father’s voice boomed in his head. _“Take that ridiculous thing off, Draco! You look like a mistake.”_

Bile quickly rose in Draco’s throat and he tried to run to the bathroom. He only took one step before tripping over himself, falling on the ground where the force was strong enough for him to heave heavily and coughed out vomit around him. Crying from both embarrassment and stupidity, Draco kicked the heels off and scrambled out of the dress, rushing to the toilet in only his underwear and barely getting on all his hands and knees before retching out the rest of the bile inside him. “Stupid, I’m fucking stupid,” Draco cried between gags. Another wave overtook him, and he coughed violently, his diaphragm and chest shaking with each one. He spat and coughed, almost forcing himself to throw up until he was certain that it was all gone.

Draco flushed and refused to look in the mirror as he washed his face and brushed his teeth. Returning to his room, he saw that a sleeve of his mother’s dress was resting in his bile on the floor. Before guilt could rise inside him, Draco just snapped his fingers and ordered the house-elves to clean everything and return the clothes to their proper places.

Alone, Draco laid in his bed and curled around himself as he felt hot tears well up once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco: Gay Disasters. And it only gets worse before it gets better.....


	16. Dangerous Obsessions

Chapter 16

Dangerous Obsessions

Harry quickly found himself turning to Tom in the diary for any reason. Every day, Harry ended his day as normal, sitting in front of his diary and writing down his thoughts and feelings about how the day went. However, with Tom, it became so much more. Tom was always so caring, so understanding about Harry and everything he was going through. _“I remember puberty Harry, it was such a confusing time for me,”_ Tom wrote to him one evening. _“However I will make sure that you don’t get lost in it. Let me help you, and I will make sure you never lose focus.”_

Near the end of the summer vacation, Sirius and Remus came to Malfoy Manor to give the boys a special announcement: Remus was going to go to Hogwarts with them and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts! Tom really took interest in this. _“You say you knew this man your whole life? How good is he as a teacher Harry? I must say I am a little shocked and worried about your shaky education with Defense Against the Dark Arts.”_

 _Uncle Remus is good. He’s very smart and he and Sirius made sure that Draco and I grew up level-headed whenever Father went on his rants about other people,_ Harry wrote back. _I remember long ago, they told us about gay people. And how they were married._

 _“Open gay marriage? Interesting. That would be highly scandalous in my time,”_ Tom replied. _“However, I cannot help but feel a little apprehensive Harry. Is there something you are not telling me?”_

Harry blinked. What did he mean? Harry told Tom everything about Remus! Unless… he meant Remus’s monthly furry problem. Should he tell Tom? What was he worried about? His words disappeared; his secrets are good with Tom. So, without any other hesitation, Harry wrote confidently. _Remus is a werewolf but he’s still great!_

 _“That is still worrying. What does he do during the full moon? Have you ever been in the same house during then, Harry?”_ Tom asked.

_Of course! And Remus drinks this awful smelling potion. He and Sirius stay together during the full moon and Draco and I stay in our rooms._

_“You see, you stay in your room! Are you not allowed to roam during the night?”_ Tom asked, and Harry read in a concerned voice.

 _I mean maybe? But why would Draco and I need to walk around the house at night? We’re too busy sleeping,_ Harry replied.

_“I am simply worried for you, Harry. After all, while you and Draco might be okay with Remus and his werewolf problem, others will not be so… liberal. There will be those who hate Remus because of his lycanthropy. Not to mention his homosexuality.”_

Harry frowned at that. _What do you mean? There aren’t a lot of people like Parkinson out there, are there?_

_“Parkinson is the girl who you and your brother detest correct? The cowardly girl who hates everything outside the norm. I’m afraid Harry that that is more popular than you might think. There is a reason why heterosexuality is assumed by default. It is the normalcy. Anything else is a diversion, a perversion for some.”_

Harry didn’t know how to respond. For some reason, his brain went to Blaise and how he made Harry feel. How everything about the boy just made Harry feel weird, made his heart beat faster and his fingers prickly.

_You’re wrong Tom. There aren’t a lot of people like that._

_“If you say so Harry, I am only looking out for your safety. Don’t say I never warned you.”_

Tom’s words rung through Harry’s mind during the rest of summer. Every time he was with his friends, he thought about Tom’s warning, when he went to Diagon Alley with his family to shop for Hogwarts, Harry couldn’t help but glance at everyone and doubt them, wondering how they would react to Remus, react to Remus the werewolf and Remus the homosexual. Then, with a feeling of small dread, he wondered how they, and his father, would react if Harry was outside the norm.

He felt scared and the more he felt scared, the more he found himself diving towards Tom, who was always there. Always listening. Always sweet.

The end of summer breezed by and one moment Harry was hunched over the diary, talking with Tom, and the next, he found himself in the Hogwarts Express sitting with his friends.

Blaise was sitting next to him, looking as handsome as ever and his arms looked a little bit bigger. Theo was on the other side of Blaise, with Draco and Daphne across of the three boys. Harry still had his diary in his lap. He knows he could put it in his trunk or pocket but the thought of having the diary out of his sight scared him. So he kept it on his lap, held tightly in his hands. Blaise was looking at him expectantly, smiling. Harry found himself blushing as his throat dried.

“S-Sorry?” he said.

“I was talking about trying out for Quidditch,” Blaise said, smiling at Harry. “I was asking if you thought about trying out for the team too. You’re so much better than the Seeker we have.”

“O-Oh, I don’t know,” Harry said, “I mean maybe?”

“I think you should, it’ll be amazing playing together,” Blaise grinned.

Harry’s cheeks reddened and he found himself nodding. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try out with you.”

“Awesome!” Blaise grinned. “We’re going to be so wicked together Harry! I’ll knock all of the Bludgers out of the way while you get the Snitch! You have the perfect body for it! Small lithe cut—awesome!” He continued to grin, but Harry knew what word Blaise was about to say. He was going to call Harry ‘cute.’

What did he mean by that? Was he serious? Was he joking? Harry didn’t understand. He couldn’t begin to think about the meaning of Blaise’s cut off word! His eyes shifted away from his friends, away from Blaise and Draco, down to his lap where Tom’s Diary sat. Would Tom know? Would he understand Harry’s strange behaviors? Would he understand Blaise’s meaning? And if so… would Tom know what to do next? All of these questions buzzed in Harry’s head as the door to the compartment opened up and Ron Weasley stood in front, with Dean and Seamus behind him.

Harry tried not to and focus on the boys generally however he couldn’t help but notice smaller finer details of all three of them. Ron was taller, as though he was stretched over summer. He noticed Ron’s freckles over his nose and the way his nose almost danced as he scrunched his face up. He was lean and lanky, as though the rest of his body hadn’t grown with him yet, but still, he looked nice. Seamus and Dean, too they seemed to be packing muscles like Blaise, but faster. Dean’s shoulders were wide, his eyes almost a sparkling hazel as he looked and smile at Harry. Seamus’s eyes smiled with mischief as he looked at the Slytherins, however, Ron’s, Ron’s eyes, Harry’s couldn’t help but see, was solely on Draco.

“Malfoy,” he said.

“We do this every time, which one Weasley?” Draco drawled. “The smart one or Harry?”

“Hey!”

“You obviously, Malfoy,” Ron said. “Harry’s not a prat!”

Harry gave a small chuckle at that. Draco just sighed and stood up, looking at Ron with a bored disdain. “I don’t want to do this right now, if you’re just here to glare at me, go do it somewhere else. I’m staying with my friends.”

“You—” Ron’s face turned red. “Fine! You’re a waste of time anyway, Malfoy.” He slammed the corridor shut and Draco gave a heavy sigh as he sat down. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with his brother. Ever since the summer, Draco seemed to be different, not all there, as though he was missing something but wouldn’t let Harry look for it.

The rest of the train ride was rather uneventful, as well as the Welcoming Feast afterwards. The only interesting thing to Harry was that Remus was announced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, something that both he and Draco clapped for loudly (the loudest in Slytherin table honestly). The small group made their way back to the Slytherin Common Room, and that was where Harry felt his heart shredded.

It was because of a large group of older year boys, laughing loudly. “Did you see those poofs? The way they were going at it on the train! I thought I was going to throw up on them!” one laughed.

“You should have! That would have served them right!” the second said.

“As if I’ll throw up on poofs dude, that’s gay,” the first Slytherin said.

“Yeah but it was funny watching them try to dance away from our spells!” the third Slytherin laughed, sounding like a donkey. “When those bat bogeys came out of their noses I thought I was going to double over!”

“That was priceless! And then stunning spells at the end? Those poofs should have gone poof!” The small crowd laughed loudly, and Harry felt as though his stomach would do twists. He felted heated suddenly, his guts were cramping, and he felt scared, horrified as he thought of Tom’s warnings.

“Dude, did you see the new teacher? He’s definitely another faggot! I can’t believe we’re going to have a gay teacher!” the first said. The crowd laughed as though it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Harry’s insides flared and he stood up suddenly.

“Harry?” Blaise said, looking at Harry.

“I—I need to go,” Harry said, and he ran to the dormitories. He did not care if the others followed, somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped they would. But they did not. Harry found himself in the third year boy’s dormitory alone. Finally alone. He felt awful, as though his insides were rebelling against his feelings, and he went to the only person he knew would help him.

He opened the diary.

_Tom! Tom! Please help!_

_“Harry? What is the matter? You should be back at Hogwarts.”_ Tom’s words were a relief to Harry. He could just imagine the older teen’s voice. Concerned, slightly deep, and filled with worry.

_I am but I don’t know how to feel. First, there was Blaise, he kept smiling at me and I keep blushing and he almost called me cute but stopped himself and all night I keep noticing different aspects of boys, only boys. Their noses, their eyes, their smiles, how much they’ve grown—everything about them! And like when I look at Daphne and talk with her, she just seems the same as ever like she hasn’t changed. I think I have an idea on what my feelings are but I’m scared Tom, I’m scared of saying it out loud. Just now I overheard older boys laughing about how they bullied boys like me—they caught them kissing on the train and the horrible things they did! I don’t want that to happen to me Tom, I really don’t but I don’t know what to do! What if Blaise finds out about me? What if he wants those feelings? Tom please I don’t know who else to turn to.”_

Harry found himself shaking and almost crying as he finished writing. He watched as his words slowly drifted away. A surge of anxiety came as he waited for Tom’s reply, looking everywhere to make sure that he and the Diary were still alone. Then, finally, Tom’s reply came, and Harry read it feverishly.

_“My sweet Harry, you were right to come to me with this. Everything you’ve mentioned sounds disturbing, very disturbing, and dangerous for you. I know that this will be hard to hear but watch out for Blaise. He may know your secret, but he may not have the best intentions with it.”_

_What do you mean?_ Harry wrote. He thought back with Blaise and there was never a time that he didn’t have Harry’s best interest in mind. He was always so sweet and caring, even breaking rules to make sure that Harry was alright. Not to mention he always knew how to lighten a situation. He told Tom as such but that only seemed to make Tom angry.

_“Are you sure Harry? Can you positively say that the feelings you’re thinking that Blaise has are the actual feelings the boy possesses? Think! I am sorry Harry, so sorry to tell you this, but he may be like the group of Slytherins. He might be lowering your guard, making you vulnerable so that he can hurt you the most.”_

_That can’t be right! I like Blaise! he’s always sweet on me!_ Harry argued.

 _“But there can never be a sweetness without reason,”_ Tom countered. _“Zabini wants something from you Harry, something that he will have either by force or given. Do not trust him, you cannot! Especially with your secret.”_

Harry frowned. He can’t trust Blaise? That doesn’t sound right. But Tom seemed so certain about this. However, he couldn’t think of himself being doubtful towards his best friend, being suspicious. That said if Tom was being truthful if Blaise finds out his secret, something that Harry himself isn’t ready to admit, what will happen? Will he be bullied by his own friends? He didn’t want that. He didn’t want even the possibility of that to happen. With a shaking hand, he asked Tom a simple question. _What do I do?_

_“Keep your feeling secret. Guard it against everyone. They will use it against you, hurt you, Harry. Keep it here, keep it safe. You know that I will never hurt you, Harry. You know I care about you.”_

_You do,_ Harry agreed.

 _“Then trust me, my Harry,”_ the Diary almost seemed to hiss comfortingly. _“Put your trust wholly in me, and I will never betray you.”_

 _I trust you;_ Harry wrote. His cheeks flushed as his heart beated drastically.

_“Thank you my Harry, I have a favor to ask of you. From now on, I want you to put our diary under your pillow at night. From there I can protect you, I can keep you safe from all who would wish you harm. Would you please do this for me, Harry?”_

_Okay,_ Harry wrote, and he obeyed. Before he went to bed that night, he placed the diary under his pillow. He felt a pressure on him immediately, a comforting pressure that he knew was Tom. He kept this up for the rest of the month, diving further into the diary’s dark embrace.

Draco felt lost. When he was around his friends, he felt alone. Completely alone. It did not matter if he smiled along with them or even looked as though he was enjoying himself. Inside himself, Draco felt completely isolated from everyone, especially from his brother. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to scream but couldn’t find his voice, he wanted to bang his fist against the walls but found that he couldn’t find the strength. He cried but didn’t know the reason. The loneliness inside him grew as the month went on, gnawing on him inside out. He found himself crying most days now, at most for an hour and he made a habit of avoiding mirrors whenever he could.

His mind felt like it was being split in two, and he didn’t know how to handle it. He needed to talk with someone, anyone, about his feelings, his discomfort, and his loneliness. So, three weeks into September, Draco decided to go to the person he trusts the most: his brother.

He found Harry where the boy spent most of his days now, in the corner of the common room, bent over his diary. Draco didn’t know why Harry was writing in it all the time, he couldn’t be writing about his day every second it happened, could he?

“Um… Harry?” Draco said as he approached his brother. Harry didn’t look up. He kept writing, pausing, before writing again. “Harry,” Draco said a little louder.

Harry finally looked up. “What?” he demanded. Draco flinched at the sharpness of Harry’s tone. He took a step closer and glanced at the dairy.

“I wanted to talk with you,” Draco said, sounding uncertain. “I’ve been having these strange feelings…”

Harry glanced between his brother and his diary. “No Tom, it’s just my brother,” Harry muttered under his breath before writing in the diary again. Draco frowned at that. Tom? Who was Tom?

“Harry? Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine—what do you want?” Harry said coldly.

“I—I’ve been feeling strange,” Draco started again, “I don’t feel like myself, I can’t even look at mirrors anymore and—” he stopped to see that Harry was once again engrossed with his diary.

“Uh-huh,” Harry nodded dismissively. “What of it?”

Rage fueled Draco. “Will you listen to me instead of writing in your stupid diary!” he yelled and reached for the diary. Harry moved quickly, violently pushing Draco to the ground as he clutched the diary close to his chest, his eyes wild as he screamed “Do not touch my Tom!”

The boys stared at each other in shock. The look in Harry’s eyes was gone in an instant and he stared at Draco. “Draco? Draco I’m sorry, I—”

“Shut up,” Draco spat. “I don’t want to hear it.” He got to his own feet and glared at Harry. “Have fun with your stupid book, Harry. You clearly care more about it than your own brother!” He turned around before Harry could see his tears and walked away.

Draco refused to talk or even look at Harry for the rest of the month. He acted like he truly felt utterly alone with no one to help him. Every night he comforted himself by crying softly into a pillow in order to muffle himself and every morning he did his best to get ready without looking in into a mirror. He wore only black outside of the Slytherin uniform, and every time he had an inkling of a desire to wear women’s clothes he would hurt himself, slapping his face or arms until the desire went away, and then he cried away the shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, sickness and life got in the way.


	17. Despair

Chapter 17

Despair

The Quidditch tryouts, Harry saw, was to be held on the first weekend of October. He and Blaise saw the poster about it on the bulletin board on Tuesday. Harry still felt a little excited for the tryouts! However, as Blaise grinned at him as he pointed it out, Harry couldn’t help but feel a mixture of emotions that made his heart both sing and ache at the same time. “We’ll be amazing Harry!” Blaise said. “Beater and Seeker! I’ll keep all the Bludgers away from you as you get the Snitch before the other Seeker even sees it!”

Harry smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He still held his diary close to him. A blur of blond rushed past him, and Harry’s happiness turned to guilt as he watched Draco walk out of the common room without a glance at Harry. They did not talk ever since Harry’s outburst a few days ago. Harry wanted to go to Draco, to cry and beg him for forgiveness but found that he couldn’t. Every time he tried to plan of a way to earn back his brother’s love, he would tell Tom who, in turn, would tell him the flaws and that was something Harry would not allow. He needed this to be perfect. He needed to be perfect. But how? How can he be perfect when he has these confusing feelings, this awful love, and fear for his best friend? _Blaise must never know I love him._

It was getting harder for Harry to keep this up. He hated how Blaise made him feel. These stupid emotions that will only lead to pain and suffering. Lead to Blaise leaving him alone, or worse have the boy join in with potential bullies. But on the other hand, every time Blaise smiles at him, even just looks at him Harry couldn’t help but smile back, to feel something good grow inside him before Tom’s words of warning comes back once more.

He hugged his diary close and could almost imagine Tom talking to him. _“You must show caution, Harry. Zabini is trying to deceive you.”_

Is he though? Harry couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to think that any of his friends would hate him. But now with Draco not talking to him, Harry had to reluctantly admit that everything was possible.

As soon as he could, he huddled himself in a corner and told Tom about the trials. _I really want to try out. I like playing Quidditch! But I’m a little scared, what if I don’t join? What if they find out about my feelings!?_

 _“Then do not try,”_ Tom wrote back. _“If you are afraid, do not try to join Quidditch, it is too dangerous, my Harry.”_

_But this is something I want to do! I love playing Quidditch and playing Quidditch with Blaise might help me understand my feelings!_

_“Stupid boy! Have you forgotten what I have told you? Blaise will leave you if he finds out! They all will! I do not mean to insult you, Harry, you have to know that I do all of this for your safety, for your good. Trying out for Quidditch, even if you do somehow get on the team, will ultimately lead to more suffering for you Harry.”_

Harry frowned. He didn’t like what Tom was saying, even though he felt that it might have been true. For a moment, he did not care that it might hurt him, he still wanted to do it. He still wanted to go out and try out for Quidditch, if not to play with Blaise than to just prove that he can do it. That he was not scared. He sighed and felt his arm grow heavy as he wrote, _I’m sorry Tom. I know that you’re looking out for me._

_“It is okay Harry, I forgive you.”_

Harry closed the diary and gave a deep breath. This would be a secret. A secret from Tom. He’s sure Tom will understand, but until then, he won’t even mention the tryouts. And once he’s Seeker, then Tom will see! They will all see! Harry Malfoy is not weird, different, or strange. He’s not weak. He can do whatever he puts his mind to. All he had to do was keep his secrets.

That did not mean, however, that he stayed away from his diary. No, Tom was too charming, too helpful, to stay away completely. Instead, Harry did his best to keep any mentions of Quidditch from his diary, instead holding secret dreams in his mind, dreaming of himself standing with pride in a green Quidditch uniform, holding his Nimbus 2001, and walking into the pitch with Blaise next to him. They would face off against the Gryffindors in his dreams. Harry didn’t know the Gryffindor team personally; however, he knew that Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin team, deeply despised Oliver Wood for reasons that Harry didn’t know. So in his dreams, the two would always glare at each other before Madam Hooch blew her whistle—and they were off!

Flying was amazing! Harry never felt so wild and free, so sure of himself. His broom would do everything he wanted it to do, responding to the lightest of touches. He always knew where the Snitch was, so Harry didn’t really need to look, instead, he was free to fly around under the open sky until he felt like he wanted to win. On and on he flew, doing loop-de-loops and corkscrews in the air, flying between the hoops, and spinning around his teammates—sometimes he even got the beater’s bat from Blaise and knocked a Bludger away before diving in to catch the snitch in the most fantastical of ways! The crowds would cheer and in the crowd, Harry always saw a handsome boy with dark eyes before his team surrounds him, and the boy vanishes.

They were the best of dreams, but as the tryouts come closer and closer, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. The once clear skies started to grey. Thunder could be heard from the distance, getting closer and closer as each day comes by until, on the day right before the trials, Harry’s dreams were storming.

The wind’s howls were deafening, and Harry struggled to even stay on his feet as the teams approached one another. He still wore his Slytherin greens, however, something felt different. Everyone around him had hardened faces, glaring murderously at each other, and at him. When Madam Hooch whistled for kick-off, Harry immediately was swept away. His broom would not listen to his commands, instead, it was swinging around wildly with the swirling winds that seemed to play with him like a rag doll. “Come on!” Harry screamed, gritting his teeth as he used all of his might to tame the broom. Laughter swelled from the stands below, everyone gawking at Harry as he tried to control his broom.

“COME ON MALFOY THE HELL YOU PLAYING AT?” Flint yelled at him as he flew by easily.

“My broom!” Harry struggled, “the storm—”

“If you can’t fly your broom in a little breeze, what good are you for?” a second chaser asked, Harry, recognizing him as Cassius Warrington. He and Flint laughed as they flew around him momentarily before flying off. Harry gritted his teeth harder as he did his best to control his broom. His hands felt frozen, his muscles stiffening in place around the handle. The broom jerked and tossed like a wild bull, trying to throw Harry off but he stayed on somehow.

“I said come on!” Harry grunted, and the broom finally stabilized. He let out a sigh of relief. “That’s right,” he muttered. He finally had a moment to look around. The storm was raging, wind and rain obscuring his vision and washing against his face. He felt bitterly cold, as though he was dropped into a huge block of ice. However, it was like he was the only one affected by the awful weather. The other players kept flying around as though it was a normal sunny day instead of the hurricane they seemed to be in. Harry squinted but no matter how much he looked, he couldn’t see the golden glint of the Snitch. So for the first time, he had to fly around. He leaned forward only to roll immediately as a Bludger flew by him, missing his head by mere centimeters.

“Watch out Harry!” Blaise called out, flying past him. “You blind or something?”

“Blaise! I can’t see,” Harry yelled. “The rain!”

Then Blaise laughed. It was a cold, high laugh that sounded totally unnatural to him. Blaise flew towards Harry and hovered right next to him. “You can’t see?” Blaise asked. “What kind of excuse is that?”

“What?”

“Admit it, Harry, you’re just awful,” Blaise sneered, his face twisting into a hideous feature that broke Harry’s heart on sight.

“No, you don’t mean that,” Harry said.

“But I do Harry,” Blaise laughed again, his beautiful brown eyes slowly turning, hints of red invading them. “You’re an awful seeker, an awful friend, and worst of all, an awful brother.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Harry yelled, “I tried to apologize to Draco!”

“But you meant it,” Blaise continued, “you meant every word you said. After all, who cares about Draco Malfoy?”

“We care!” Harry said, “He’s your friend! My brother! Blaise, what is wrong with you?”

Blaise laughed, “Yeah, what is wrong with me?” he sneered, the red in his eyes growing. “I’m everything you want, isn’t that right Harry? You love me, you poof. You actually think you have a chance with me?” He laughed again, that cold high unnatural laugh that did not belong to Blaise.

Harry shook his head, tears forming. “This isn’t you,” he insisted. “Blaise please, I love you!”

“No you don’t, you’re just a disgusting piece of dirt pretending to be human,” Blaise sneered. “But that’s fine, I’ll help you go where you belong.” He swung his beater’s bat, smacking Harry’s head.

Harry lost balance; his grip loosened as he swung around. He fell. He was falling to the ground he couldn’t even see, his face staring at Blaise in horror as he continued to laugh. _Blaise, why?_ He pleaded mentally. He was going to die again, just as he was about to die all those years ago with Professor Quirrell. Only this time there was no Dumbledore to save him, no Snape, no Draco… only him and the ground.

The pain was beyond anything he could imagine. His back felt like it was being broken in several places before warmth. A soft warmth with arms cradling him. He wasn’t dead. Far from it, he was being held by someone. Cautiously, Harry opened his eyes.

The teen that was holding him was incredibly handsome, with brown hair and mysterious eyes. He was cradling Harry, holding him bridal style as Harry laid against his chest. He felt so warm and protective that Harry barely realized the Slytherin robes the teen was wearing. “Everything will be okay, my Harry,” the teen said, his voice so calming. Harry didn’t need to ask who he was, he always knew.

“Tom,” the thirteen-year-old whispered.

“Yes Harry,” Tom smiled, combing a single finger through Harry’s hair to fix it. “I’m always here for you.”

“Tom! I’m sorry,” Harry cried. “I never should have lied to you! I went out to tryouts for Quidditch and I got in and—”

“It's okay Harry, I forgive you,” Tom said comfortingly. “Just stay here, with me, listen to me Harry, and everything will be okay.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “I’m so sorry Tom.”

“Everything will be fine Harry; you just have to listen… and obey.” The older teen leaned his head down and captured Harry’s lips.

Draco did not want to talk to his brother. Stupid Harry, who does he think he is? He’s awful! That’s what! He raised Blaise’s hope for joining the Quidditch team only to never show up! Draco was there, watching from the stands. He cheered with Theo and Daphne when Blaise got in, but his stupid brother never showed up. He did not even see Harry until hours later, and even then he was still in a corner, hunched over his stupid diary. He would have yelled at Harry, to smack him and his stupid diary, but he still did not want to speak to his brother. No, if Harry wants to ever try to make up for the awful things he has done, he will have to make the first step, not Draco or anyone else.

Besides, right now, in the middle of October, Draco had something more important to worry about. He was going to sneak into the girl’s dormitory for their clothes.

It took him a day to plan out the idea, and a whole week to convince himself to do it. He needed to know. He needed to get these awful confusing feelings out of him, these strange desires that keep distracting him. It was Saturday, a sunny afternoon and everyone was out of the common room. It was a simple plan, he would go in, get the clothes, and run out to an empty classroom. He already picked out the classroom and made sure that there was a mirror in it, it was a full-length mirror that Professor McGonagall uses during 6th and 7th-year transfiguration classes.

Draco took a breath, gathering his courage, and made his way to the staircase that led to the girls’ dormitory. He heard stories of guys sliding down the stairs whenever they tried to go up them, however, they seemed to be false as he climbed them easily as if they were just a normal set of stairs. He reached the fifth year girls’ and went inside.

He was going to borrow Daphne’s clothes. He felt guilty about using his friend like that, however, Daphne was closest to his body size. It was easy to find Daphne’s bed and trunk, the sheets smelled like her perfume. He took his bag off and opened it, opening Daphne’s trunk and stuffing clothes inside. He stole one full girl’s uniform as well as socks to ball up.

Everything properly stored, Draco zipped up his bag and quickly left, making the room look as though he was never in there.

The classroom he picked was on the third floor. He used a couple of secret passages that he knew about to reach it, and went inside, closing the door behind him. Desks were in rows, and there were the full-length mirrors, left exactly as Draco found them. He felt his pulse racing as he placed his bag on a nearby desk and opened it. “Okay,” he said. “I can do this.”

He turned his back to the mirror and took off his clothes until he was just standing in his underwear. Then he started with the black leggings, which felt weird against his legs. He struggled with the skirt afterward, the black fabric reaching his knees and swayed around with every movement. Next were a white button-up shirt and Slytherin sweater vest. He slipped on his shoes once more and took a shaky breath as he reached the balled-up socks. _I’m so stupid,_ he thought as he did his best to put them in his shirt. The socks were pressed against his chest, giving him the illusion of having small very lumpy looking and disfigured breasts. He squeezed his eyes and turned to the mirror.

_Pretty._

There was that word again. Pretty. Draco stared at his reflection, at himself wearing the uniform, and he allowed a small smile. He was pretty. He could look past the balled-up socks, look past the terrible bags under his eyes, and smiled at what he saw. “Hello,” he said experimentally, stepping towards the mirror. He pressed his hand against the cold glass and his breath hitched. He was pretty! He looked pretty, felt pretty. He didn’t know what it meant, or maybe he had an idea but was afraid to say it.

“You’re such a disgusting disgrace.” Draco flinched. Once again his father spoke in his mind, and in his mind he could see his father behind him in the mirror, glaring at him. “What do you think you’re doing Draco? Dressing as a girl like that? Do you have no respect?”

“F-Father—”

“Don’t babble, Draco! You are my son, act like it!” Mr. Malfoy yelled. “Take that stuff off and act like you’re supposed to!”

“But—I—I’m pretty,” Draco breathed.

“No you look ridiculous,” Mr. Malfoy sneered. “No son of mine will act like a disgusting faggot.”

“NO!” Draco yelled, his fist smashing against the mirror. It cracked, small shards falling as the majority stood in place. His hand bled and he felt pain, but he didn’t care. Draco collapsed, cradling his hand as he cried. What was he thinking!? He was so stupid, so wrong! Why did he think he could do something disgusting like this? Feel pretty with those disgusting lumps of breasts the socks made? “I’m a failure, a horrible, horrible failure,” Draco cried. “I shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s right, you shouldn’t,” Mr. Malfoy sneered in his mind. “You are not even worthy of being called my son.”

“Shut up!” Draco cried, “Please!” He opened his eyes and saw a shard of glass in front of him. He heard his father laugh in his mind.

“What are you planning?” Mr. Malfoy asked.

“Leave me,” Draco begged. He reached for the shard of glass and held his breath. What was he planning? What was he even thinking? Stealing clothes? Wearing women’s stuff? And now he’s here, crying in front of a cracked mirror with a shard in his hand! He was a Malfoy! He was supposed to be strong, confident! He was supposed to know who he was, what _fucking_ gender he was! But now—he brought the shard close to his wrist. Would he feel something? Would he feel relief or pain? Shame? He didn’t know. All he felt right now was despair, a horrible despair that dragged him closer and closer to the shard’s edge, but even then he was afraid of the feeling, of the confirmation. “NO!” he screamed, throwing the shard away and crying.

“Hello? Are you okay?” a voice asked, and Draco stiffened. No, please no. Anyone but him. “Hey um, girl? Are you okay?” Footsteps approached him and Draco felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the concerned face of Ron Weasley.

“Malfoy!? What are you doing here?” Ron asked, looking around. “Why are you in girls’ clothes? Why did I hear you crying? What’s going on? Are you okay—”

“Leave me alone,” Draco sneered. “Go insult me another day.” He waved his hand away, but it was the hand that was bleeding. Ron saw the blood and gasped.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. Now go away,” Draco sneered.

“Why is your hand bleeding? Did you punch the mirror—Malfoy are you okay?”

“LEAVE!” Draco yelled, tears falling from his eyes just to spite him. _No! I will not cry in front of Weasley!_ But it was useless, as the tears continued to fall. “Just leave me alone like everyone else!” Draco pushed Ron out of the way and gathered his clothes. Ron stared in a stupor until Draco was running out of the door.

“Malfoy—Draco, wait!” Ron yelled after him, but Draco didn’t listen. He just continued running, crying at how stupid he was.

The Malfoy boys were both in their own personal hells. Harry withdrew to himself to a point where he stopped eating at times. Large black bags appeared under his skin, and he never talked or participated in class. He kept to himself, muttering only to the diary, spending all of his time absorbed in the book. Draco, meanwhile, was too becoming withdrawn, but more snippy, yelling at everyone near him, going as far as to get into a fistfight with Goyle over something small that Goyle said about him. Blaise had enough of it. He thought that it was a phase, that it will all pass, and everyone will be alright in the end. He was hurt that Harry missed the tryouts, however, he thought that his friend would explain himself, but Harry never did. Now, with October over and November just beginning, Blaise Zabini was deeply worried about his friends, about his husbands. He needed to help them somehow but didn’t know how. So, he went to the person other than him who knew Draco and Harry best in the castle: he went to Professor Lupin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know why but this was very hard to write.


	18. Hope

Chapter 18

Hope

Blaise found Professor Lupin in his office, smiling at a letter. He knocked as he walked in, looking frantic. Professor Lupin looked up and his smile quickly faded. “Blaise, what’s the matter?” he asked.

“Harry and Draco,” Blaise panted.

“Sit down, tell me everything,” Professor Lupin said, and a few seconds later Blaise found himself sitting in front of Professor Lupin’s desk with a glass of water and a small bar of chocolate to help calm him down.

“Harry and Draco both been acting weird since we got to Hogwarts,” Blaise said. “Harry’s been obsessed with his diary—forgetting about us in the process! He seemed so happy to try out for Quidditch with me, but he missed it, and he keeps talking to his diary, calling it Tom. Even when he isn’t writing in the diary, he just doesn’t seem to be all there, if you get what I mean. He’s not there, and when he answers it’s like he’s a completely different person. He even stopped wearing his colors! All I see him in now is the uniform or a dreary black. As for Draco, he’s withdrawing too. And last night… last night I saw him crying and hurting himself in the bathroom.”

Professor Lupin frowned, “How did I miss this?” he asked, tears starting to show in his eyes. “I never noticed… oh god.”

“What are we going to do?” Blaise asked. “Please Professor.”

Professor Lupin sighed and seemed to sink in his chair. “We will have to talk with them of course. You should try talking with them, hopefully, they will open up to you. Try to bring them to my office, where we can be alone and help them. I’m afraid if I go to them, they might shut down completely.”

“Okay,” Blaise nodded. He stood up and stared at Professor Lupin. “I’ll go now! I’ll go help, Harry!”

“That sounds like a plan,” Professor Lupin nodded. “I’ll go and try to find Draco. Bring him here.”

“Okay,” Blaise nodded, and, with a final bite of his chocolate, he ran out of Professor Lupin’s office. He had to save his husband, his Harry. His crush. He knew immediately when he was twelve that he was different from other boys, he was always an early bloomer as his mother joked, it was just the way Harry and Draco laughed and smiled that caught his attention, especially Harry. Heck, the reason why Blaise even started exercising and join the Quidditch team was to get Harry’s attention! But that damn diary… this book called Tom. It’s somehow changing Harry. It sounds crazy, and Blaise knew it, however, it could be the only reason. After all, Harry wasn’t obsessed with his diaries during his first and second years. He wrote in them daily, yeah, but he never carried it everywhere and wrote in it openly. Just once at night before bed before putting it in his trunk under his underwear (as a good friend Blaise had to know exactly in case Harry needed it). But now, Blaise never saw Harry without that small black book. He was always writing in it, obsessed with talking to it as if it was a person. And with his obsession, Harry’s temperament worsened.

That was going to stop today. Blaise ran down the rest of the way to the Slytherin Dungeons, where he knew that Harry would be. The young Malfoy would always be in the same place: in the corner of the common room, hunched over his diary. He entered the dungeons and both a shiver of anticipation and relief ran over the young gay Zabini when his eyes fell upon Harry Malfoy. In his corner. Hunched over that blasted diary.

Blaise stopped and stared at the boy for a moment. His heart swelled. “Come on Blaise, you can do this,” he muttered to himself. He stepped towards Harry and smiled, “Hey Harry,” he said in a friendly tone. “How are you today?”

Blaise had to strain his ears to hear Harry muttered, “fine.”

He did his best to be patient and kept his smile. “Actually Harry, how about you and I go to the dorms for a moment? Just a quick second, please, I want to talk to you about Professor Snape’s essay and I left everything in my trunk.”

Harry did not respond immediately. He wrote in his diary and muttered, “I know Tom, but he says it’s for school… he’s my friend, I’ll be careful.” Finally, he looked up at Blaise and nodded, “Okay,” he said unemotionally and took the diary with him, holding it tightly to himself as he slipped away from his corner. Blaise kept his smile and led Harry away from his corner, towards the stairs that lead to the dormitory. With each step he braced himself, steeling his will. He had a feeling that what’s going to follow was going to be hard, for both him and Harry. However he had to do this, he did not want to see his friend and crush suffer so.

Harry barely noticed when Blaise locked the door behind them. Instead, he went towards Blaise’s trunk and immediately asked in the same tired, unemotional voice, “Where’s your Potions stuff?”

“Um I didn’t ask you in here to talk about Potions,” Blaise admitted. Harry stopped and turned to him. _What? What does this mean? Does he know?_

 _“I told you,” Tom purred in his ear, “be careful of Zabini. He means to separate us forever. Then nobody will love you.”_ Harry shook his head. No, no that can’t be. He turned around to see the phantom image of Tom, an image that only he can see and have started seeing only a couple of days ago.

“No, no we can’t be separate,” he begged. “Please Tom.”

“Harry, it’s just us,” Blaise said, “who are you talking to?”

“Of course he doesn’t see,” Harry muttered. He glared at Blaise, “Shut up Zabini! You lied to me.”

“I’m sorry Harry but I had to lie to be alone with you,” Blaise frowned. “We’re worried Harry, all of us.”

“Worried?” Harry scoffed. “As if.”

_“See how he lies,” Tom chuckled. He leaned close, his arms wrapped around Harry’s body. “He does not care for you Harry, nobody does. The only one you can trust is me.”_

“No one cares about me,” Harry said. “Only Tom—Tom cares about me! The rest of you don’t!”

“We do Harry, we all care about you,” Blaise said, blinking at him as though he was confused. “Me, your brother, Professor Lupin, Daphne and Theo—even those Gryffindors you hang out with sometimes, we all care about you!”

“No you don’t,” Harry said, giving Blaise a sickening sneer. “I know what you all think about me! Stupid Malfoy, Useless Malfoy, Horrible, horrible faggot Malfoy.”

“Harry that’s not it at all! Nobody would even think of saying those things about you! You’re meaningful, brilliant, and my best friend!”

_“See how he lies,” Tom chuckled. “Even now he is disgusted by you.”_

Harry grimaced as he did his best to keep tears from falling. “Best friend,” he said, spitting out the word as though it was toxic. “Best friend… stupid Zabini I have no best friend. Tom is the only friend I need.”

“Harry, that diary is not your friend,” Blaise said. “It is a book. Just put it down—”

“TOM IS NOT A BOOK!” Harry screamed, tightening his hold on their diary. “TOM IS BETTER THAN ANYONE HERE! HE CARES FOR ME! HE LOVES ME!”

“He does not care for you! He doesn’t even exist!” Blaise yelled before realizing what he did and took a step back. In a much calmer voice, he said, “You cannot spend your life in a book Harry. This Tom doesn’t exist. If you have issues if there’s anything wrong please talk to me about it. I don’t want to lose you.”

Harry gave a high, cold laugh. He could feel Tom’s arms tighten around him, his touch cold to his skin. His heartbeat hastened, and he felt a strange air of calmness, of dangerous safety. “Lose me? Yes, you don’t want to lose me,” Harry muttered. “Who will you tease? Who will you provoke? After all, we both know why you want to keep me around. You just want to keep teasing and baiting the poor gay Harry. The stupid Malfoy who is too dumb and too disgusting to ever be normal.”

_“I know these words hurt Harry, but you must say them,” Tom whispered. He glanced at Blaise, who stared at Harry horror-struck and sneered. “Look at his face, look at the horror and disgust, those are his true feelings, Harry. Draw them out. Show him that you know his thoughts, everyone’s thoughts, and they will finally leave you and me alone…”_

“Okay Tom,” Harry said in an emotionless voice.

“Tom—there’s that word again. There is no Tom Harry, is he here? What has that diary done to you?” Blaise demanded. “Harry please tell me you don’t believe this—any of this! Where are these thoughts coming from, Harry?”

“You. All of you!” Harry screamed. “Every one of you! The Slytherins laughing at the gay couple on the train, everyone who laughed at me when I wore those ridiculous colors, or got an answer wrong or did anything stupid or too Malfoyish.” He spat the last word out. “All of you judge me! On everything I do! Everything that happens to me! Do you think I wanted Quirrell to try to kill me my first year? No! But still, everyone blames me for it!”

“No one blames you for it,” Blaise said. “What Quirrell did to you was a horrible, horrible thing. No one expects you to take the blame for it, or be a hero.”

“Father does,” Harry muttered. “And mother too I reckon. ‘Stay away from trouble,’ he told me followed by ‘you should have gone to a teacher.’ Do you want to hear what I did? I did go to a teacher, Zabini. Professor Snape.” Harry’s voice slowly lost all kindness that it usually held. He spoke with such bitterness, such a cold-hearted hatred that even he felt his heart break on hearing it. “Professor Snape, Zabini. Who ignored me, called me foolish, and practically handed me over to Quirrell.”

“Yeah I agree that was a bastard move Harry, but in the end Dumbledore still saved you! You’re here, right now, and we spent the night eating cookies,” Blaise said, “Do you remember? You and I just laying next to each other, I snuck in cookies for you and me.”

“I, y-yeah,” Harry said, snapping out of whatever trance he was in for a second. He groaned and put one hand to his head as it throbbed. “It hurts,” he whimpered.

“Harry?”

But Harry couldn’t hear Blaise. His head pounded, a sharp pain from his scar throbbed that muffled everything around him. The diary in his hand seemed to throb as well, syncing with his scar. “Tom, it hurts,” he whimpered.

_“Oh my sweet Harry, it is nothing to worry about. This is my love for you. Embrace it. Do not listen to Zabini. Do not listen to any of them. They will never love you truly as I do.” Harry felt Tom’s hands on his shoulder, moving up his neck and caressing his neck briefly before fingers grazed against his cheek and resting against his forehead. One long finger pushed against his scar and the pain increased._

Harry screamed and almost fell to his knees. “Harry!” Blaise screamed, running to him.

“It hurts, Tom it hurts, please,” Harry whimpered.

_“Embrace it, and I will take care of Zabini. I will take care of everyone,” Tom whispered lovingly in his ear. The pain increased and Harry screamed louder. “That’s it love, such a good boy. No one will love you. No one will care for you. All you have is me. I will keep you safe Harry, I will always keep you safe.”_

Harry’s body went slack. “You’re right,” he muttered. “Only you understand me, Tom. Only you care for me. No one else loves me, just you.”

_“Yes, that’s it—”_

“That’s bullshit, Harry!” Blaise’s words cut through Harry like a knife. The next thing he knew, his diary was pulled from his grip and thrown across the floor as arms encircled him, hugging him tightly. “I love you Harry Malfoy, goddamn it!” Blaise said, his voice squeaking with emotion as he started to cry. “I love you Harry Malfoy so please don’t you dare speak like that again. I always loved you.”

Harry stiffened in the hug. Blaise felt so warm. So nice compared to the coldness of before. _“Don’t listen to him!” Tom screamed but his voice was fading away fast._ In its place, there was warmth, Blaise’s warmth as everything inside Harry started to melt. He found himself falling, truly, to the ground, his legs and arms refused to cooperate, but Blaise just held him tighter, whispering and muttering how much he loved Harry in between his tears. Memories of everything that has happened the last two months flooded Harry and was followed, instantly, by regret. He regretted every horrible word he sneered, every thought he had, and everything he did to his brother.

His limbs still not cooperating, Harry cried as words flooded from his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry. I was lonely—so very lonely—and scared. Tom was there—always there. The diary it talks back to me. Showed me things—told me things. I trusted him because I was so lonely, so scared and—and—and—and—I thought, I thought that you—that you would never love me, Blaise.” Harry’s voice failed him after. He just confessed his love for Blaise. The one thing that Tom warned him against and now here he was, diary-less and crying out his confession in his crush’s arms.

Blaise’s arms tightened as he hugged him tighter. “Harry,” he breathed. Harry looked up and immediately his lips were captured by Blaise. The kiss tasted salty from their tears, but Harry didn’t care. He just kissed Blaise back with as much energy as he could muster. They fell to their sides but kept on kissing, Harry finding the strength to wrap his arms around Blaise. It was invigorating, the kiss. The last of the coldness left Harry’s body, a huge blush grew on his cheeks and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled.

Blaise moved away, pressing his forehead against Harry’s, and smiled. “How many times do I have to tell you Harry?” he breathed. “We’re husbands. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed.

“It’s okay Harry like you said, that diary is to blame,” Blaise smiled. “Come on husband, think you can stand?”

“Will you hold me?” Harry asked in a small voice. “I still feel weak.”

Blaise gave a smirk and kissed Harry’s scar, which was an angry red, as though it was still throbbing. “Harry Malfoy, you are stuck with me. I’m never letting you go now.”

Harry smiled at that and allowed Blaise to help him up, the young Malfoy leaning against the taller Zabini. Blaise’s hand wrapped around Harry to steady him and silently, their eyes fell upon the small black diary that rested almost innocently on the floor in front of them. “What are we going to do with that?” Harry asked a little fearfully. “I rather not see it again… or touch it.”

“We’ll burn it,” Blaise said. “Burn it and get you a proper diary, one that doesn’t talk back to you.”

Harry nodded in agreement. He wanted to see the dreadful diary burn. Parts of him still longed for it, however, Blaise was right. They needed to get rid of it. Blaise took out his wand and aimed it at the diary. “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” he said. The diary floated in the air too innocently. It followed the new couple as they left the dormitory, Harry unlocking the door, and down into the common room.

They’ve got a few strange looks, but Harry did not care. He felt courageous next to Blaise, and all he wanted then and there was to see the diary gone forever. The two made their way towards the fireplace, the diary floating behind them. Blaise waved his wand and directed the diary ahead of them, slowly, as though he was dealing with something very toxic, which they both knew it was. The diary slipped into the fireplace and fell, the fire consuming it. The teens smiled with relief as they watched the book, waiting for the pages to catch fire and the leather cover to darken and curl.

But it never happened.

No. The dairy just sat there, surrounded by the roaring fire in the fireplace. Unharmed. Unaffected. Fear sparked both teens as they stared in horror before turning to each other. “What is going on?” Blaise asked. “Why isn’t it burning?”

“I-I don’t know,” Harry said. He took his wand out and floated the diary out of the fire. It landed in front of them and Blaise bent down. He glanced a cautious look at Harry before pressing his hand against the diary.

“It’s cold—Harry it’s not even warm!” he said, pulling his hand away, afraid that the diary would come alive and snap at him.

“What do we do?” Harry asked.

Blaise took off his robes and wrapped them around the dairy, picking up the bundle. “We have to take it somewhere—anywhere. Any place where nobody will find this.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded and they both ran out.

The boys searched the castle, running from the dungeons all the way up towards each tower, searching frantically for a place to throw the apparently indestructible book away. On and on they ran for almost two hours until out of sheer exhaustion or loss of direction, they ran around a corridor on the seventh floor three times. “There’s nowhere,” Harry panted. “We checked this entire floor, Blaise—what are we going to do?”

Blaise did not answer Harry. Instead, he just stared at a wall and pointed, “Harry, has that door always been there?”

Harry blinked and looked. In front of them was a plain wooden door, standing out against the stone wall. “I—no? We’ve been running around this entire floor,” Harry breathed.

The two approached the door and opened it.

Inside was a large room neither of them ever saw before. Piles of books, broken desks, and full statues stood in mountains. There were cabinets with clothes in them, as well as just piles of clothing and, to their left, a very old and beat-up looking black cabinet. The piles of things seemed to go on forever, sprawling in an endless maze. Blaise’s exhaustion quickly went away, and he smiled at Harry. “This is it,” he said. “Harry, this is perfect! Nobody will ever find it here!”

They walked further into the room and stopped in front of a rather faded looking statue with its face caved in. At the foot of it was a silver diadem with sapphires. The boys ignored it as Blaise looked around. “I’ll throw it in here, one good chuck, and it’s gone forever,” he said.

“Do it,” Harry nodded. He quickly kissed Blaise’s cheek. “For luck,” he blushed.

Blaise breathed and nodded. He unwrapped his robes from the dairy and held it in his hands. It was cold, very cold; however, he could feel as though the diary was looking at him, glaring at him with murderous intent. An intent that will never come to fruition. He raised the book high with his hand and took a running start before lobbing it as far as he could. The diary soared into the air, past a pile of strange underwear and robes, and was gone forever.

The two teenage boys smiled at each other. Harry took Blaise’s hand and tugged him towards the entrance. “Do you think there’s still time for me to try out as Seeker?” he asked.

“Definitely, we’ll have you playing with me,” Blaise grinned, and they left the room, both feeling as though their nightmarish phantom has gone away forever.


	19. Change

Chapter 19

Change

“Draco!” Blaise gasped, his hand holding Harry’s tightening. They were just outside the room where they threw Riddle’s Dairy away. His relief was filled with panic as he looked at Harry. “We have to help Draco! Come on! He should be in Professor Lupin’s office!”

Harry has never run as fast in his life as when he ran down to Professor Lupin’s office. The two Slytherins practically flew on their feet, almost knocking over several students in the process. The young Malfoy was amazed that he and Blaise did not trip on the stairs as they ran down, skipping steps whenever they could.

Professor Lupin’s office was on the second floor and somehow the two made it to the office in just over ten minutes. Blaise knocked on the door as he opened it, Harry running past him inside. The first thing he noticed was Draco crying. His older brother was in a corner of the office, curled in a tight ball as he cried. Professor Lupin was standing nearby, looking completely sadden and at a bit of a loss. He glanced up at Harry and Blaise and smiled, “Draco, look, Harry and Blaise are here.”

Draco did not stir. Harry immediately ran up to him and got to his knees, hugging Draco. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry! I shouldn’t have said all those awful things Draco.”

“Left me alone,” Draco cried out. “Harry I needed you.”

“I know, I’m an awful brother! A stupid, awful, silly brother who let an evil diary take control of everything,” Harry said, tears of his own starting to shred anew. “I would never leave you Draco, you know that.”

“But you did,” Draco whispered. “You left me, and I’m a monster.”

“No! You’re not a monster,” Harry whispered. “Neither of us are monsters!”

“I’m a freak, a stupid freak with stupid ideas,” Draco said softly, his voice losing emotions. “Father would hate me.”

A spark of rebellion went off in Harry. He squeezed his brother and shook his head, “Who cares,” he said. “Who cares what Father thinks? Besides, if he has anyone to be angry at, it’s me.”

“You? But I—”

“I’m gay.” Harry felt proud of saying it. There was no weight lifted off his chest like a terrible secret, however, it felt good to finally say it aloud. To acknowledge who he is after so long. “I’m gay. I like boys—I like Blaise exactly. So if there’s anyone that Father is going to be angry at, it’s me Draco. You have nothing to worry about.”

Draco sniffed. For the first time he looked up and his silver eyes met Harry’s green. “Harry,” he whispered. “Father will still hate me. I like boys too… but there’s more.”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?” Draco did not answer. Instead, he went a little slack and allowed his brother to unwrap him from his ball. Harry helped Draco to stand up and Lupin transfigured one of his chairs into a couch for the boys to sit on comfortably. They cuddled towards each other, resting their heads against each other. “Draco?” Harry breathed as Lupin and Blaise moved to sit across from them.

“You’re in a safe space, Draco,” Professor Lupin said. “You know that everyone here loves and cares for you. Whatever you have on your chest, whatever is bothering you, you can talk through them here. You can speak whatever is on your mind. No one here will judge you Draco, ever.”

Draco just stared at Lupin for a long moment before nodding. Still, he hesitated, looking up at his younger brother. _How is he so much stronger than me?_ He wondered. When did Harry, who has always looked up to Draco, grew to be so much stronger and more confident in who he is than Draco? He felt proud, but also a little jealous. He gave a heavy sigh and looked at Professor Lupin. “I don’t know who I am,” he began, pausing a little every now and again to find his words. “There are times where I feel like a boy like I’m supposed to be a boy and I am a boy but… but there are times where this feels wrong. Where I don’t feel like a boy at all… not fully. I tried girl clothes. Every time I get the courage to. I tried Mother’s dresses… your colorful robes, Harry, and Daphne’s uniform. Every time, I felt right, good, not fully girl, and not fully boy. But me. Then I looked in the mirror, I feel pretty… then shame. I feel stupid because I am stupid. I hear father’s voice yelling at me, mocking me for doing these things. I—I didn’t’ know what to do. The last time I—I—” he looked at his wrist, unmarked but only because he was too scared to do the act. Draco felt arms wrapped around him and leaned towards his brother. “I’m a monster, I’m not a boy, not a girl. I’m a hideous freak.”

“You are not a hideous freak, Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin said. “You are a remarkable student, a good friend, And the most devoted older sibling I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “you are not a freak, you are my older sibling and I love you!”

Draco gave out a horrible, anguished yelp like a dying animal and clung to Harry’s arms. “What does that me?” he demanded. “Harry am I your brother? Am I your sister? What am I? The word sibling sounds like you’re mocking me!”

“No one is mocking you Draco,” Blaise insisted but Draco was too busy crying to hear.

Professor Lupin stood from his chair and moved over to sit next to the two Malfoys. He rested a hand on Draco’s knee. Draco froze at that before looking up to see Professor Lupin’s patient face as he gave Draco a kind smile. “That is valid, that you are not fully boy or full girl,” he said. “From my point of view, and from what I find in life in general, is that there are no neat boxes to fit people into. Everything is a spectrum, I find. Everything. From our sexuality to our genders. It is fine that you do not fit into the boxes for boy or girl, for I know there is a place for you on this spectrum of genders. There are many people, Draco, who consider themselves Non-Binary, and they do just that. They do not fall into the neat little boxes and instead exist on the more colorful, more diverse, and much more lively spectrum of gender expression. There are some who forgo Gender entirely and go by they/them, but there are also others who choose to express a particular gender when the moment feels right to them. These people are genderfluid. Now, there are many people who debate whether or not genderfluid people fall under nonbinary, however, I feel that particular conversation can wait for the moment. Right now Draco, all we need to focus on, all you need to focus on, is what feels right for you. What feels right on how Draco Malfoy should present themself, himself, herself… what feels right for you, Draco?”

Draco gave a short nod and stared at his feet. What sounded right for him? What felt right for her? Draco did not know where to start. He felt like a complete mess. He, he… yes, Draco liked he. He liked how he sounded. But it wasn’t enough, no it was far from enough for Draco. But now that Draco thinks about it, his name feels right as well. Draco. Draco Malfoy, that is who he is. But the he, the he that Draco always associated himself with is not enough. She? How did she sound? Wearing feminine clothing, wearing the skirts and dresses made Draco feel pretty. She liked how she saw herself in the mirror, even if regret filled afterward. But did that regret came from her or her father? Draco couldn’t say. But she really liked those dresses. She really liked wearing the girl’s uniform. And she especially loved how pretty all of it made her feel. But just because she likes to wear feminine clothing, does that mean “She” feels right to Draco? Should she use she/her just because she likes to wear women’s clothing? It made sense to her, and the more she thought about it, the more comfortable she started to feel comfortable with using female pronouns. But again, like the male pronouns, it wasn’t enough for Draco. Both, by themselves, did not feel right, in isolation they did not feel truly Draco. Then what? His hands went to his flat chest and frowned, remembering how he used the socks to mimic boobs. They felt strange but pleasant. Something she wanted, but maybe not all the time? He just didn’t know. He. She. He. She. He. He. She? They? They… would they work for Draco? Draco envisioned Harry introducing Draco to others. “Hi, this is my brother Draco, they really love to play Quidditch!” No. No, They feel wrong to Draco. It did not feel right, it does not feel Draco. He was not enough; She was not enough… but definitely not They! That was something that Draco knew for sure.

Both?

Both… using both for whenever Draco feels more towards one or the other… could that work? Could Draco use both He and She? “This is Draco, he is my brother.” “Draco is amazing you should see her in that dress!” It felt… comfortable, like the two pieces that were not enough connecting together inside Draco. But then, when to use them? Could he have different modes? Switch between the pronouns based on what he feels more close to? That sounded right, it made sense to the young Draco Malfoy. The more he thought about it, the more Draco liked the idea, using both and switching between based on how Draco feels. Right now, Draco feels like a boy more, however, he wants to try using female pronouns, but his body doesn’t feel right to use female pronouns yet. Was there a way to vocalize his thought process? For the first time, Draco looked up and gave a long sigh, “I think I know what I want,” he said, sounding a little unsure.

Harry, Blaise, and Professor Lupin waited patiently. Harry hugged Draco a little tighter and he smiled at Harry. “I think… They just do not work for me,” Draco began. “My name feels right, Draco. It’s who I am. He also works but it’s not enough, it doesn’t fully fit me… the same goes for she. I think I don’t know if I can but, they both feel right for me. I don’t feel like a full boy, and neither do I feel like a full girl. I think I’m both? Yet there might be times where I’m one over the other? I don’t know how to describe that. It… changes if that makes sense”

“It does,” Professor Lupin said, giving Draco a small smile. “If I may, it sounds that you might be genderfluid. How does that feel?”

“Genderfluid,” Draco repeated. “Genderfluid…” A small smile appeared on Draco’s face. He nodded, “yeah, I like that. That sounds… that feels right.” He took a breath and looked at Harry. “Little brother,” he said, doing his best to swell his chest up full of confidence like he did when they were younger. You have to listen to me! I’m genderfluid and I like boys.”

“Okay,” Harry said, smiling brilliantly. The two Malfoys embraced, hugging each other tightly.

“Draco, if I may,” Professor Lupin said softly, “what gender do you feel like now?”

“Male,” Draco answered, “but… I also want to try something. I want to dress in a girl’s uniform and look myself in the mirror if I may?”

“Of course,” Professor Lupin nodded. “Do you have one?”

“It’s… it’s in my trunk,” Draco blushed. “I stole a pair from Daphne. It’s in the deepest part of my trunk.”

“I see, then if you don’t mind, I’ll go fetch it,” Professor Lupin said, standing up but Harry shook his head.

“Wait, Uncle Remus!” he said. “Umm, I think we should all stay here, for Draco.”

“I can go get—” Blaise began to offer.

“No, it’s fine,” Harry shook his head. He looked at his boyfriend, silently pleading for him to stay. He focused on the empty space between the couch and Blaise’s chair. “Dobby!” Harry called out. “I’m sorry but can you please come here?”

There were a silent few seconds before Dobby the house-elf appeared with a loud crack. “What can Dobby be doing for Master Harry, sir?” Dobby asked, bowing low.

“Dobby, can you please go to Draco and my dormitory? In Draco’s trunk, all the way in the bottom, there’s a girl’s uniform. Can you bring it here for us?” Harry asked.

“And the socks,” Draco added, his cheeks going rosy. “The balled-up socks.”

Dobby gave a low bow and disappeared with the same loud crack. Draco shuffled awkwardly in his seat and looked at them. “When I tried Daphne’s uniform… I also took socks to use as, as my… you know. It just felt wrong wearing the uniform without them.”

“I see,” Professor Lupin nodded. “If you would like Draco, I can take you to the back of my office, it’s connected to a small bedroom, I can teach you a simple charm there.” He pointed towards a door near the back of the office that neither Malfoys nor Blaise noticed before.

“A charm?” Draco breathed. Professor Lupin nodded, “Yes, it will give you temporary breasts,” he explained. “It is akin to Human Transfiguration, but a little easier. Sirius and I have a friend who is just like you, Draco. Whenever she is in girl mode as she calls it, she uses this charm to make her look and feel more appropriate.”

Tears began to sparkle again in Draco’s eyes. But instead of looking sad, Draco looked happy, hopeful even. “Do you mind, Uncle Remus?” he whispered.

Professor Lupin pulled Draco into a hug and kissed the top of his head. “You know I would do the world for the both of you,” he said. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Draco breathed, but he still held onto Harry.

Dobby appeared a second later with the uniform and for the first time, Draco let go of Harry to take the uniform and followed Professor Lupin to the private bedroom in the back of his office. Blaise stood up and immediately took Draco’s place, pulling Harry to him as they hug and cuddle. “How do you feel about this?” he asked.

“It’s a lot, but I’m happy that Draco is starting to feel himself again,” Harry smiled.

“I think it’s herself now, considering she’s getting dressed,” Blaise said.

Harry nodded, “It’s going to be an adjustment, but I’m going to try my best. But at least we both are happier.”

Blaise hummed, “All three of us are,” he said. “And I’m serious about the tryouts. The person they picked is horrible! You’re such a better Seeker, Harry!”

“Then we should go yell at Flint,” Harry said, “All three of us! I’m sure that Draco has a lot to vent out. It’ll be good for … her.” He hesitated before getting the pronoun correct, smiling at himself.

“Exactly,” Blaise nodded.

“How about you? How do you feel about this?” Harry asked.

“I’m just happy to see my Malfoys are feeling like their normal selves again,” Blaise said.

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, “Your Malfoys?” he said, chuckling. “What do you mean by that Mr. Zabini?”

“It means that you and Draco both belong to me,” Blaise said, sticking his tongue out. Harry gasped at that, causing Blaise to laugh. “But seriously, you two are my best friends! Well, now best friend and boyfriend… oh no! Harry! I have to deal with Draco yelling at me for dating you!” Immediate worry flooded Blaise’s face and Harry couldn’t help but laugh, smiling impishly.

“That’s right,” he said teasingly, “you have to deal with Draco! And just you wait until she hears all about how you stole her younger brother!”

“What are you two talking about?”

Draco was standing in front of them. Her face was the same, her hair looking a little longer. She was wearing the school uniform, and Harry’s first thought was pretty. She looked pretty, very pretty. She smiled softly and turned as if to examine herself. Harry was amazed to see her chest push out a little prominently, fitting her body perfectly looking not too big or too small. Draco noticed Harry staring and snapped her fingers, “Harry, stop staring at them!”

“S-Sorry!” Harry said, blushing. “It’s just… you look really pretty, Draco.”

Draco smiled and looked at herself. “I do,” she nodded. “I feel pretty. And Harry, when I look like this… when I feel like this, can you please use my female pronouns?”

“Okay, I will,” Harry nodded.

“Good,” Draco smirked. She put her hands to her waist and said with traditional Malfoy smugness, “However no matter what, Harry, I’m your older brother! Do you understand? I don’t care what I’m wearing or which mode I’m feeling more defines me, I’m your older brother and you have to listen to me.”

Harry stood up and in the blink of an eye, he was hugging his older brother. “I got it Draco,” he said.

“Good,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around Harry. The two Malfoys somehow made their way to a mirror without letting go of each other. Draco took a breath and stared at herself in it. She felt complete and happy, something she didn’t feel for a long time. _Genderfluid. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I am genderfluid. Right now I prefer using she and her._ She expected their father to appear in the mirror, to loom over the two of them and look at them disapproving but he never did. The mirror just continued to show the two Malfoys, crying happily as they hug. Draco did the best to blink her tears away and looked at Professor Lupin. “Uncle Remus… is it okay if I leave like this?” she asked.

“Of course, Draco. Would you like me to explain to your other teachers and Dumbledore, by the way? Just so you do not need to worry about it?” Professor Lupin asked.

Draco nodded. “Please,” she whispered. Professor Lupin smiled and stepped up to them, hugging the two easily and kissing the top of their heads. “I love you two,” he muttered.

“We love you too, Uncle Remus,” The two Malfoys murmured. Draco smiled and looked at the mirror again. “Come on Harry, let’s go tell the good news to the others.”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. “We’ll see you later, Uncle Remus!”

“Anytime boys, and write to Sirius please, he keeps complaining about how neither of you has written to him since term began,” Professor Lupin said. The Malfoys agreed and together, holding hand in hand, they walked out of Professor Lupin’s office with Blaise catching up and walking along on Harry’s other side.

“Just wait until Weasley sees me,” Draco smirked. “I don’t care what he says, I feel like I can blow off any insult he throws!”

“I’m sure Ron would never do that,” Harry hummed, “I think he’ll actually sputter at how cute and pretty you are.”

“That’ll work too,” Draco nodded. “Speaking of what were you and Blaise talking about when I walked in? Something about someone stealing you?”

Blaise immediately blushed deeply and grew strangely quiet while Harry just gave an impish smirk. “Well, two things,” he said. “First, Blaise wants you to join us to yell at Flint to give me a chance to try out for Quidditch since I missed it because of the diary.”

“Okay,” Draco nodded. “And the next?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry’s smile grew and winked at Blaise.

“When Blaise saved me from the diary—and I swear I’ll tell you all about it tonight before bed—he sort of confesses his feelings, and I confessed mine… and now we’re sort of boyfriends.”

“EXCUSE ME!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's getting happier and we're reaching the end! Just two more chapters! How will Ron react when he sees Draco? Will he be flustered and love at full sight, or will he run away?


	20. Who They Are

Chapter 20

Who They Are

It took the entire walk from Professor Lupin’s office down to the Great Hall for dinner for Draco to yell at Blaise Zabini until she was satisfied. What was that stupid idiot thinking? Trying to date her younger brother without her permission? Without even asking her!? Draco was slightly insulted. Still, however, if her little brother were to have a boyfriend, she would rather it be Blaise. There were some odd looks as they passed by some random students who were also on their way to dinner, yet somehow nobody recognized Draco as she walked with her brother. When they reached the Great Hall, Harry peaked in and turned to Draco, saying, “Uncle Remus is talking with Dumbledore right now.”

“Oh, okay,” Draco said. She took a breath and stood confidently, “Let’s go then.” She strolled in holding her head high with Harry and Blaise following after her. Nobody really paid any attention to Draco, there was no lull in conversation or sudden silence. Instead, life went on as normal, and Draco led her brother and her brother’s boyfriend to their usual seats in Slytherin Table, where she saw that Theodore Nott was already sitting. The three sat down and Theo looked up, frowning at Draco.

“You have breasts,” he said.

“I do,” she nodded, “So what?”

Theo shrugged and looked at Harry and Blaise, “Did you burn that book? I saw you run out after failing to throw it into the fire.”

Blaise frowned, “Is there anything you don’t know about our lives?” he muttered.

“A lot of things, but still I have a feeling that I know you all,” Theo said, giving another shrug. He looked at Harry and studied him for a moment. Harry squirmed under his stare and glanced up, “Um, I’m sorry,” he muttered, “For being distant this year. It was all the book’s fault.”

Theo raised an eyebrow, “How can a diary be at fault for that?” he asked. Harry glanced at Draco and Blaise and bit his lip, “I’ll explain when everyone’s here… but I think Draco should explain her situation first.”

“You sure?” Draco asked, ignoring the slight look of surprise from Theo. Harry nodded, “Yeah, you’re more important than a book that almost tried to kill me,” he smiled.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh at that. She ruffled Harry’s hair and Harry scoffed, swatting away her hands, “Stop it!” he pouted. Soon enough the others arrived, Daphne Greengrass sitting next to Theo along with, much to Draco’s annoyance, Pansy Parkinson who stared at Draco for a long moment. “Who the hell is this?” she demanded.

“Nice to see you too, Pansy,” Draco muttered. “It’s me, Draco.”

Pansy stared at Draco for a long time before making a revolted sound, “What the hell are you wearing?” she demanded.

“My uniform,” Draco said shortly, already feeling a headache developing. “Either way, I have to tell you something. Daphne, Theo. Harry and Blaise already know, but both of us, Harry and I, have things we need to tell you.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, glancing around, “but Draco first.” Food appeared but none of the Slytherins noticed their attention fully on Draco. She looked around and thought on how she would start this. “Well,” she started, “It’s rather a long story but in case you didn’t notice, Harry and I were both kind of depressed since the summer for a couple of reasons. My reason is because of my gender. I just didn’t feel right in my skin, like I was missing something. I hated myself for a long time, I tried everything, I have even stolen a pair of your uniform, Daphne, sorry about that. But after a very long talk with Professor Lupin and Harry and Blaise, I’ve realized who I am, and this is it,” Draco said, indicating to herself.

“So you’re a trann—OW!” Pansy winced as Daphne slapped her arm. “That hurts!”

“Shut it, Parkinson,” Daphne said. She looked at Draco and said, “So, you’re a girl now?”

“No, I mean yeah right now, but other times I’m a boy,” Draco said in such a casual tone. “There are times, like now, when I feel more like a girl, during which I would ask that you use my female pronouns, while other times I feel more like a boy, and that is when you’ll use male pronouns. It’s all rather easy, isn’t it Harry?” He glanced at Harry.

“Uh yeah,” Harry nodded, “and no matter what mode Draco is in, she’ll always be my big brother—her words, not mine.”

“Wait, what?” Daphne frowned, “I don’t get it. So you’re not a boy, Draco?”

“No, not at this moment at least,” Draco said, shaking her head as she and Harry started to fill each other’s plates as when they were little. “But there are times when I feel more like a boy, and so I’ll switch to those pronouns to help correspond to how I’m feeling. At least that is how Professor Lupin described it.”

“But you have breasts!” Pansy said, “How the hell can you be a boy with breasts? That’s disgusting!”

“Don’t be jealous just because my brother has bigger boobs than you,” Harry said, sticking out his tongue. Draco gave him a look but smirked.

“These are just temporary, to help me look as I feel,” Draco said. “Uncle Remus cast it on me, and actually agreed to teach me the spell, although it is a bit far beyond third-year magic.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it in no time,” Blaise grinned.

“I better! I don’t want to go to my uncle every time I’m in my girl mode,” Draco said, giving a look of embarrassing disgust.

Daphne, Pansy, and Theo just stared at the three confused. “Wait so,” Daphne said slowly. “You’re saying that you are not a boy… but you’re also not a girl? Instead, you have these modes?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded, “I’m Genderfluid. That’s how to describe my identity. I’m Genderfluid, and uh, I like guys.”

“You’re a fa—”

“Don’t you dare Parkinson,” Harry yelled, getting the attention of some of the higher years around them. He didn’t care at that moment. “Why are you even sitting with us? You’re not our friend. How many times do we have to tell you that?”

“Shut up Potter, at least I’m not disgusting like you and Malfoy over here,” Pansy snarled and filled her mouth with food and turned away. Harry sighed and sat back down, Blaise rubbing his arm before interlocking their fingers.

Draco looked at them, a little embarrassed now, “I don’t know if I’m considered gay or not. I know I would be when I’m feeling like a boy, but not when I’m feeling like a girl—I’m uhh, Uncle Remus did not explain that well. All I know is that I like boys, and that’s all that matters.” She looked at Theo and Daphne and started to fidget with her fork. “So, any questions?”

“How do we know uhh what to use?” Daphne asked hesitantly, sounding as though she did not still fully understand.

“Well my breasts obviously,” Draco answered sarcastically. “I’ll tell you,” she answered honestly. “I don’t know how long my modes will last, it truly depends on how I’m feeling I feel, and right now, I feel more like a girl. Sorry again for stealing your uniform.”

“No problem—I mean, uh does that mean you’re sleeping with us at night?” Daphne asked. Draco and Harry faltered. They glanced at each other, both at a loss.

“Uhhh… I don’t know,” Draco said slowly. “I never really thought of that.”

“Does it matter?” Harry asked. “I mean, we shared beds before in second and first year, so do you really need to change dorms?”

“I don’t know,” Draco frowned. “Do we have to talk with Snape about that?”

“I’m not talking to him!” Harry said quickly, taking the chance to look at the staff table and glare at their Head of House, who was currently staring at his soup as though it was plotting his murder.

“Wait,” Theo said, having a thoughtful expression, “I want to see if I understand correctly. You said you are Genderfluid, which means that sometimes you feel more like a boy and other times you feel like a girl. Right now, you feel like a girl so we should use she, but other times you feel like a boy, and those times we use he. Is that correct?”

“Yeah, it is,” Draco nodded, “and gee, thanks for summarizing my crisis in like two sentences?”

Theo nodded, “Okay I understand it now,” he said, and looked at Harry and Blaise, “I’m guessing your news is that you’re gay and dating Zabini?”

“Theo!”

“You can’t just blurt stuff out like that, that’s my news to share!” Blaise said, grinning madly, “but yeah, I got a Malfoy.”

“I see, well congratulations,” Theo said evenly as the two Malfoys glared at Blaise. Daphne looked between Harry and Blaise, blinking. “That was it?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned.

“I thought you two were dating for months now!” she exclaimed. “Right Theo? We thought at least since the end of first year!” She looked at the other Slytherin who just shrugged and made no comment. Harry’s face turned red and licked his lips nervously.

“Uh, y-yeah but we just started dating… and I just accepted that I’m gay,” he muttered.

“Oh, oh—I’m sorry,” Daphne said immediately. “We just assumed...”

“No, no it’s more complicated than that,” Harry said, and he began to tell Daphne and Theo all about the diary as they ate dinner. They did not speak or make comments, simply nodding along until Harry finished over pudding. They seemed to understand his story better than Draco’s, which made Harry a little sad. How is it that they could more easily and quickly accept the story of the evil diary than Draco’s identity? He’s happy that they got there in the end, but it still stung a little.

When dinner was over, Draco was eyeing the Gryffindor table and couldn’t help but smirk at herself. “I’ll meet with you later, Harry,” she said as she stood up, smoothing out her skirt. “I want to tease Weasley a bit.” She gave Harry a confident smirk and her brother nodded. That smirk went away as she walked down the Slytherin table towards the doors where a group of Gryffindor third years was leaving, Weasley among them. “Weasley,” she called out. “Weasley!”

Ron stopped and turned around, looking for who was calling him. He found Draco and stared at her for a moment before saying questionably, “Malfoy? That you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Can we talk? Alone…”

Ron blinked and stared at her, his eyes drifting towards her chest before he caught himself. He nodded, blushing, and followed Draco as she led him to a small room on the side of the entrance hall. She closed the door and paced momentarily before turning to him. “There are some things that I need to tell you, and the first is going to be difficult for me so you better listen, Weasley,” she said in an accusing tone.

“Uhh—”

“I’m… sorry for how I’ve been acting the last few weeks,” she said, her mouth and face scowling at the word, as though it was an exotic food that tasted horrible. “It’s just that, as you can see, I was having a bit of an identity crisis.”

“So uh, err, you’re a girl now?” Ron asked hesitantly.

Draco gave a soft chuckle, “Not fully, but now I feel like a girl, especially since I make the uniform look good,” she smirked as she turned slowly, showing off to Weasley. She couldn’t help but chuckle more at Weasley’s confused look.

“What you mean?” he asked.

“I’m Genderfluid, that’s what I identify as,” Draco said. “It means I’m not fully male or female, however, I identify as both but not at the same time. There are times where I feel more like a girl and times when I feel more like a guy.”

“So right now… you feel like a girl?” Ron asked. Draco nodded, smiling. “So uhh I should call you a girl?”

“Yes, I would appreciate that,” Draco giggled.

“And is that why, uh, you have the… you know?” Ron said awkwardly, pressing his hands against his chest. Draco laughed. A full, loud genuine laugh that left laugh lands on her cheeks. She took a step closer and smiled and winked at Ron.

“Boobs? Yes, Ron, that’s why I have boobs,” she said mirthfully. “Uncle Remus helped me, and he’s teaching me how to give myself temporary boobs for when I’m in girl mode if you want to call it that.”

“Ohh... so uhh they’re fake?” Ron asked, his eyes slowly drifting down.

Draco huffed, “Weasley, honestly just stare at my face for a moment? I’m actually trying to be nice here.”

“Sorry!” Ron said, his face quickly turning redder than his hair. Draco shook her head and sighed.

“It’s fine, but yeah, if you see me like this I would like it if you at least use the correct pronouns in your insults,” Draco said, “or anything you say about me,” she smirked.

“Uhh—insult?” Ron said, “I would never—”

Draco just shook her head and smiled, “Well, I just want to tell you about me and my identity, as well as that my boobs won’t be permanent.”

“Ohh okay and uhh Malfoy—Draco—uh I’m sorry, you know, for uhh the detentions and yelling and stuff,” Ron said, blushing madly.

Draco smirked at that and stretched, looking at Ron evenly, and gave an impish smile as she summoned all of her cockiness that a Malfoy should have. “Weasley, you honestly need to do better than that,” she smirked. “If there’s any way you want me as your girlfriend, you’ll have to try much harder than that, and remember about my modes.”

“W-What!?” Ron said, “I never said about—”

“I can see it in your face, Ron. Now, if you excuse me I think I’ll go to bed, a girl needs her beauty sleep,” she smirked and turned, leaving Ron stunned and blushing madly in the room.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh at herself as she made her way down to the Slytherin common rooms, where she told Harry everything. “You should have seen his face! I swear it’s as though his entire family is just a garden of tomatoes!”

They laughed, Draco smiling brilliantly. “So now what are you going to do?” Harry asked.

Draco hummed, “I don’t know, I mean it’s strange that I’m even on talking terms with Weasley, isn’t it? But, I guess I’ll admit that he is cute when he blushes, and if he learns throughout that I am definitely superior, then I guess trying to date him will be worth it.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “You know, people are going to stare at us again.”

“Let them, I don’t care,” Draco said.

“Father will know…”

“Only because we’ll tell him, and mother,” Draco said with a determined expression. “I don’t want to live like that ever again, it was horrible.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding as he frowned. “Just thinking about how I was obsessed with the book… how I loved him,” he shook his head to try and get rid of the bad memories. They did not notice a looming shadow above them until they heard Snape said, “Mr. Malfoy, I believe we need to have a talk.”

“What is it? I didn’t do anything,” Harry said immediately and earned himself a pointed glare from Snape. “Not you, the other Mr. Malfoy,” he said.

They both gave each other a look before looking back at Snape. “You mean me?” Draco asked.

“Obviously,” Snape drawled.

“Uh sir, Professor Lupin told you—”

“Yes I know what Professor Lupin has claimed to believe, and though the other professors may believe it, Mr. Malfoy, I am here to assure you that there will not be any of this foolishness in my House. You are a boy, and thus you will stay in the boy’s dormitory where you belong. Is that to be understood, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape said.

“Yes sir,” Draco said. Snape gave the two a final look before turning away, his robes billowing dramatically after. The Malfoys glanced at each other and Draco sighed, frowning deeply. “I guess that’s something I need to get used to,” she said. “People not accepting who I am.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Harry grinned, “anyone who acts like that, we’ll beat them up! Or we’ll yell at them until they do what we want. We’re Malfoys after all.”

“You’re right, we are Malfoys,” Draco nodded. “And speaking of yelling, don’t we need to do that to get you your try out for Quidditch?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled, “That’ll cheer you up, come on!” He grinned and took his brother’s hands in his, and they went out to yell at Marcus Flint who lasted only ten minutes under the Malfoys’ carefully worded argument that boiled down to allowing Harry to try out for the team and replace the Seeker instead of being a bench warmer, and in return, the Malfoys will ask their father to forget five thousand of the thirty-seven thousand galleons that the Flint family are indebted to. Harry’s tryout would be tomorrow, and the two Malfoys went to bed satisfied and feeling heavily relieved of everything that came out that day.

The next morning, Draco woke up feeling completely herself and made sure to dress the part. Her enchantment disappeared overnight, and she made a mental note to find her uncle as soon as she could. Once dressed, she went down to the Great Hall with her brother for breakfast only to find Ron waiting for her in the entrance hall. “Malfoy—uhh Draco, can we talk, please?” he said awkwardly.

“Go on,” Harry said, “I’ll get you a plate.” He patted Draco’s shoulder and left, making sure to give Ron a threatening gaze that even their father would be proud of. Ron winced slightly under Harry’s look and the young teen smiled at that before leaving the two alone. “Come on, back in the same room,” Draco muttered, leading Ron into the same empty room they talked in yesterday.

“Right uhh… what uhh gender are you—I mean uhh, god that sounded awful uhh—” Ron started to trip over his words, his face starting to blush. Draco couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I still feel like a girl,” she said, “I just didn’t have the enchantment done to me yet.”

“Oh, okay,” Ron nodded. “So uh I’ve done some thinking, and I talked with Hermione about it, a lot actually, and there’s something I want to tell you.” He fidgeted in his stop, glancing up at Draco. “Hermione actually had a cousin like you—uhh and well, while her cousin’s parents and her parents don’t exactly, uhh, like their decision, Hermione still kept in touch, so she actually knows quite a bit—but uhh what I’m trying to say is uhh...”

“Well?” Draco scowled. “Spit it out Weasley, I’m getting hungry and Harry always puts too much jam on my toast!”

Ron winced, then took a breath. He completely changed dispositions, his nervous energy gone, replaced by some Gryffindor courage or brashness Draco thought. He took the few steps that separate them and smashed his lips onto hers.

It was a very inexperienced kiss, the two just pressed their lips together not moving or even breathing, but it was a perfect first kiss in Draco’s opinion. Ron took a step back and said, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Draco smiled and nodded, kissing Ron again, “Okay,” she said. “However, you do know that I won’t always be in girl mode, right? There will be times when I’ll feel more like a boy, and if you even think about stopping that or pretending that we aren’t a couple—”

“I don’t care,” Ron blurted out, “I don’t care whether you’re feeling like a boy or a girl… as long as I get to be your boyfriend. And uhh Hermione told me that because we’re dating—we are dating now? Right?”

“I don’t know boyfriend, what do you think?” Draco drawled sarcastically while giving Ron a smile. “Yes, we are.”

“Then uhh one of the things Hermione told me was that you’re my Partner, because girlfriend is, well, girl, and there are times when you’re not feeling like a girl, and it’s easier for both of us to call you that instead of switching between girlfriend and boyfriend—”

“Partner,” Draco interrupted Ron. “Partner,” she tried the word on her tongue and scowled. “Sounds too adulty,” she complained. “Like it’s too long-term, and honestly I like girlfriend better.”

“You do?” Ron frowned, “but what about when you feel like a boy?”

“Then I’ll still be your girlfriend,” Draco shrugged. “Harry calls me his big brother still, and I asked him to do that. So I’ll ask you this: call me your girlfriend, no matter what. Okay?”

“Y-Yeah, okay,” Ron nodded. Draco kissed him and smiled, both of them blushing. “Draco Malfoy is my girlfriend,” Ron muttered.

“And Ron Weasley is my boyfriend,” Draco said. “Strange, huh?”

“Yeah, strange,” Ron grinned, “uh how about I give my girlfriend one last kiss before breakfast?”

“She’s waiting,” Draco hummed, and once more they kissed before leaving the room, smiling at each other before heading off to their own separate tables. Draco snickered when she saw Ron immediately gushing to his friends, rolling her eyes as she looked around her own friends. “Ron Weasley is now my boyfriend,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Blaise, hand me a knife? Harry’s put too much jam on my toast again.”

Harry borrowed Blaise’s broom for the tryouts, his Nimbus Two Thousand and One still at home because students are not allowed to bring brooms to school unless they are on the Quidditch team, and Blaise and Draco watched and cheered as Harry had his personal tryouts, with Flint and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch Team watching. Harry flew with ease, smiling and laughing as he did everything the team asked him to do. The team’s current seeker, a twiggy fifth year, glared at Harry throughout. “He’s cheating! He’s not good he’s just on a fast broom!” the fifth year complained.

“Really? We’ll see about that then. Malfoy! One last thing, you and Vicks here will have a competition. The first one to get the Snitch gets in the team,” Flint said. “Get on your broom,” he ordered Vicks. The teen nodded and ran off to get his broom, coming back a moment later. He kicked off and glared at Harry. “You think you’re so special just because you’re a Malfoy? I’m the team’s Seeker! You can’t change that!” Harry just grinned in response.

Flint released the Golden Snitch—and in less than a minute Harry caught it, diving for it instantly, changing his angle to keep up with the Snitch before grasping it easily. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Harry said innocently as he glided down to return the snitch to Flint.

“Good work Malfoy, practice starts Wednesday,” Flint grinned, “Vicks, get out.”

The team cheered and congratulated Harry, Blaise pushing through and pulling the small Malfoy into a tight hug, “Malfoy and Zabini! The Unstoppable Couple!” he declared.

November was a much better month for both Malfoys, in their opinions. First off, they now had boyfriends to go on dates on, which was a terrible challenge and thought that they both tackled with as much poise and grace that Malfoys held. Draco, specifically, was relieved when he and Ron had their first date in Hogsmeade when Draco felt more like a boy, and much to his embarrassment, and secretly relief, Ron dragged Draco to the middle of the main street and yelled out loud, “DRACO MALFOY IS THE BEST GIRLFRIEND!” before kissing him with as much passion an inexperienced thirteen year old could muster. Yes, their teeth clinked against each other, and yes Draco did punch Ron afterward, but it was all good by the time they met with Harry and Blaise in the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer.

Malfoy and Zabini proved to be an unstoppable combination in the first official game of Quidditch, Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and with their efforts, the Slytherins soundly crushed Gryffindor with a score of Three-hundred-and-forty to thirty. The two young Malfoys found their lives improving, they were happy, content, and feeling fully who they are. However, with Christmas looming over, both Draco and Harry realized that they had only one more mountain to climb before being able to enjoy their lives peacefully.

They had to tell their father everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter Last Chapter!


	21. Malfoys' Lives

Chapter 21

Malfoys’ Lives

Draco really liked kissing Ron. The Gryffindor was surprisingly good at it, and he was also surprisingly malleable. For example, in only two weeks of their dating, Draco taught Ron to not talk with his mouth full. Meanwhile, Ron also taught his girlfriend some things, such as not to scowl so often. The longer they dated, the more Draco had to admit that he had a thing for redheads, and the fact that Ron had no problem being with him publicly no matter what mode Draco was in was amazing as well.

So they spent a lot of December kissing… and holding hands, and other things they thought were cute. The only times they were separated were meals and when they had to go to bed, other than that, Ron and Draco were blissfully together practicing kissing.

On the day that classes ended for the semester and students who are going home for the holidays packed, Ron pulled Draco aside, both boys kissing each other. “So, uh I’ve told my mum and dad about us,” Ron said awkwardly. “I know that you were going to tell your folks—and I don’t want to keep you as a secret—so uhh I kind of wrote to them, saying that you’re my girlfriend. Hermione helped e write the part explaining your genderfluidity.”

“Oh,” Draco said, blinking. He felt a little relieved and worried, “How did they take it?”

“Uhh… mum wanted to know what your size was,” Ron said, blushing,” and I told her that you could probably fit in Ginny’s clothes.”

“I’m not that small! It’s not my fault you are just freakishly tall, Weasley!” Draco huffed but kissed Ron anyway, “but thank you. It actually makes me happy, knowing that your parents don’t have a problem with us.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, smiling, “though Fred and George might be a problem. Not that they’re, you know, they’re just teasing me about having a girlfriend.”

“They’re just jealous,” Draco smirked. He kissed Ron again (they just really are a handsy couple) and took Ron’s hand, “So, you better write to me,” he said. “I’ll write to you as well obviously and tell you how it went.”

“When are you and Harry planning on telling them?” Ron asked.

“Christmas Day,” Draco answered. “We think that’s when they’ll be at their happiest, or most relaxed. We’re thinking after presents we can tell them.”

“Oh, in that case, uhh I should warn you,” Ron said, his cheeks starting to turn a little red, “I think my mum is going to make you a Weasley Sweater, I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”

“No, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Draco said, “however I hope you don’t mind if I uh, don’t wear it until after I explain to my parents.”

“Yeah no, I get it,” Ron said. He smiled widely and looked hesitant, “I uhh guess I’ll see you after the holidays?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to make up for all the kisses we miss,” Draco grinned. Ron smiled confidently at that.

“So you like kissing me, eh Malfoy?”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Draco said, but smiled. He winked at Ron and his hand slipped away. “I’ll see you later Ron,” he promised with a blown kiss and went to finish packing.

The train ride home was too quick for Draco. He dreaded seeing his parents, seeing his father, once more after what felt like an eternity. Their mother was on the station to greet them, and both boys hugged her warmly and allowed her to kiss their cheeks. “Well boys, shall we go home?” Mrs. Malfoy asked, and they left for home.

Mr. Malfoy did not greet them until dinner. He just glanced at Harry and Draco, looking just as they remembered him. “Good evening boys,” he muttered. “Harry, congratulations on getting on the Quidditch team.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Harry said. He looked at Draco, and both knew that they felt the same thing.

They felt completely different, while their parents stayed the same. Harry has suffered through a toxic relationship with Tom Riddle’s Diary, he had truly believed that nobody cared for him, that the only person who cared for him was Tom Riddle, and he allowed the dairy to poison his mind and body, separating and isolating himself from everything and everyone he loved. He felt like he was on the edge, about to jump into the abyss that Tom was leading him until Blaise appeared. The boys did not even want to think about what would have happened if Blaise did not intervene. As for Draco, he too felt isolated, alone, with the specter of his father’s judgment hanging always over them. He did not feel fully himself, who he was trying to come out but his own anxieties and fears stopping him until, like Harry, he was saved by his loved ones. Harry and Draco were completely different people than from when they left a couple of months ago, and now they had to come out to their parents, reveal everything about their true selves, and hope to god that their father will accept them.

Even with all of this dread and anxiety, the boys were still excited for Christmas to come and the presents they would get. They relaxed in Draco’s room after dinner. “Hey, remember that time when I tricked the house elves?” Harry asked.

“Huh?”

“The first Christmas I had here,” Harry said. “I thought that Santa would forget me if I slept in my room. So I tricked the house-elves by pretending to fall asleep then ran to sleep with you.”

“Oh yeah, I remember,” Draco chuckled. “Why? You thinking of pulling that again?”

“Hmm, no,” Harry hummed, “but it was nice to remember. Life was simpler back then.”

“Much simpler,” Draco nodded. He thought for a moment, smirking, “Remember when I tried on your pink robes for the first time?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned, looking down at the robes he was wearing now, which was a lovely light lilac.

“How about we wear them tomorrow?” Draco said, “Present ourselves like a united unit.”

Harry looked at his brother for a moment, a sly smile growing on his face. He jumped up and said, “Yes! I love the idea! Come on, let’s go pick out what we’re going to wear right now!” He took Draco’s hand and the two ran into Harry’s room where Harry made his brother sit on his bed as the shorter Malfoy went to work on picking out what clothes they were going to wear on Christmas Day. Harry settled on black pants which were comfortable for both of them, as well as a light pink button-up for Draco, and a darker pink for Harry. “I got pink socks if you want them,” Harry said.

Draco scrunched up his nose and stared at his brother, “There is no way I am putting something that your feet have touched on,” he said.

“Your lost,” Harry shrugged and added a pair of pink socks to his pile of clothes. With their clothing planned out, Harry helped Draco bring his clothes into his room, hanging up what needed to be hanged on the inside door of Draco’s dresser to prevent wrinkles. They hung out for a couple more hours before saying goodnight.

Draco had a dreamless sleep and woke up feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety churning in his stomach. Today was Christmas Day, there were presents waiting for him, as well as a serious and frightening conversation with his parents.

He rolled out of bed and got ready for the day, dressing in the clothes Harry picked for him and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He smiled, admiring how pretty he looked. “If Ron saw me, that Weasley would fall in love with me instantly,” he smirked and left his room.

Harry was waiting for him, looking radiant in pink, and the Malfoy brothers shared a smile, “Happy Christmas, Draco,” Harry hummed.

“Happy Christmas. Shall we go have a very awkward conversation?” Draco asked.

“Only if we get to open our presents first,” Harry grinned. They hooked arms and made their way to the family dining room where Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were waiting. The boys said good morning, kissing their mother’s cheek, causing her to chuckle. “Lucius, our boys are becoming quite the charmers aren’t they?” she said, “and you boys look lovely as well.”

“Thank you mother,” Draco said.

“We’re just in the Christmas mood,” Harry said, glancing at Draco, who shook his head. After breakfast and presents, then, Harry thought. Mr. Malfoy only glanced at Harry and Draco, muttering a good morning as he read his newspaper. “Dear lord what the hell is Fudge thinking?” he muttered in the middle of breakfast. “He is actually talking making the Severing Charm a Dark Spell, claiming enchanted scissors is enough. Does this man has no intelligence?”

“Well dear, at least you know now what you will talk to him about later tonight,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“Unfortunately, I rather not spend our little party making Fudge see sense,” Mr. Malfoy said, pulling a face. “Either way, we can forget about this matter for a few hours.”

“Agreed,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled. “So Harry, how is Quidditch? You barely mentioned it in your letters.”

“You are winning, I hope,” Mr. Malfoy said, putting down his newspaper to give Harry his full attention.

“We are,” Harry nodded, “We’ve won both games we had so far. Blaise’s turning out to be an amazing Beater, I have no Bludgers going near me with him on my team.”

“That’s good, it’s great that the two of you are on the team together, right Lucius?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“Agreed,” Mr. Malfoy said. “What about you Draco? Why didn’t you try out for the team?”

Draco couldn’t help but flinch. He glanced at Harry who frowned at his father. “I just was not interested, father,” Draco said, trying to keep a calm tone. “Quidditch is fun to play with my friends, however, that doesn’t mean I want to join the team.”

“I see,” Mr. Malfoy said shortly. “Still you should find something to fill your time. Idle hands lead to an idle mind, Draco.”

“I know, father,” Draco muttered.

“Come now, I think we’re all done eating,” Mrs. Malfoy said, standing up, “I think it’s proper time to open presents.”

Thankful to be away from the topic, Draco stood up immediately, perhaps too quickly, and walked with Harry to the main living room where their presents waited under a tall and magnificently decorated Christmas Tree. As always, Mrs. Malfoy waved her wand and the presents all floated around, separating into four piles in front of each Malfoy. Draco began opening his, seeing an amateurishly wrapped gift next to a gift wrapped neatly but definitely by hand and not by magic which his parents preferred. His heart jumped when he saw Ron’s handwriting and glanced at his parents before opening Ron’s present.

It was a bracelet. An inexpensive looking bracelet that was very simple looking, but still it made Draco smiled as he slipped it on. There was no card, but that didn’t matter from Draco. It was enough that Ron even thought to give him a present, and he only hoped that his Weasley liked the present he gave him. “Harry, look,” Draco smiled, showing off his bracelet. ‘Ron,’ he mouthed.

Harry grinned and showed Draco a necklace with a simple pendant with an emerald on it, ‘Blaise,’ he mouthed back, both boys smiling. Draco looked back at the other hand-wrapped present and opened it slowly. It was a care package it seemed, filled with mince pies and other sweets, as well as a light green handknit sweater with a large golden _D_ stitched into it. “Ohh, pie,” Harry said, taking one and shoving it in his mouth.

“I guess this is a Weasley sweater,” Draco said. He smiled and felt a little teary-eyed as he folded the sweater and placed it next to him. “The pie’s good,” Harry grinned.

“God, you’re already turning into the dunderheads on the team and you’ve only been a member for a month,” Draco muttered. Harry just grinned at that and helped Draco hide the pies and sweater from their parents’ viewpoint. The rest of the presents were nice, Draco got new clothes (none of them were dresses or skirts) and a few books he had some interest in. Harry and Draco looked at each other and nodded. They stood up and looked at their parents, who were still lounging in a small loveseat.

“I’ll go first,” Harry whispered to Draco, giving his hand a supportive squeeze.

“Are you sure?” Draco whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. He cleared his throat and said in a louder voice, “Mom? Dad, there are some things we need to tell you.”

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy looked up at them, Mrs. Malfoy frowning in concern, “Are you alright Harry?”

Harry glanced at Draco, who gave him an encouraging smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said, “it’s just there are some things we need to tell you… about us.”

Mrs. Malfoy looked even more worried as Mr. Malfoy just watched the two carefully. Harry felt every single bone and cell in his body shake in anticipation and fear. He swallowed heavily and did his best to stand tall as he stared straight into his father’s eyes. “I’m gay. I’m gay, and Blaise Zabini is my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for almost two months.”

Silence followed. Mrs. Malfoy stared at Harry with a silent gasp while Mr. Malfoy remained utterly expressionless. Mrs. Malfoy stood up first, taking a step towards Harry and pulled him into a hug. “That’s okay,” she whispered, “We’re so proud of you Harry, and Blaise as well.” She looked back at Mr. Malfoy. “Right Lucius? Are you going to say something to our son?”

“Yes, I will,” Mr. Malfoy said shortly. He stood up and sneered at Harry. “This is an absolute disgrace! You and Zabini have clearly spent too much time with Black and Lupin and I forbid you to ever see them again.”

Harry flinched and took a step back, but Draco held his hand tighter and Mrs. Malfoy wrapped her arms around Harry. “Lucius Malfoy you stop right there!” she said angrily. “I’ve had just about enough of this! For years you’ve done nothing but insult my cousin and his husband and I am tired of it. Our son, our Harry is gay, and I am proud of him! He is still our son, still, our Harry Malfoy who we’ve raised for nine years! He has nothing wrong with him—and to top it off he found a good boy in Blaise Zabini! The only problem here is you Lucius and your attitude, so tell me right now, what do you have against our son being who he is?”

Harry and Draco were speechless. They have never seen their mother yell at their father like so. Even Mr. Malfoy looked shocked at this, but he quickly composed himself. “It is unnatural, how are they supposed to continue the Malfoy and Potter blood if they sodomize?” he asked.

“If children are such an important reason, then there are potions for that in development,” Mrs. Malfoy said, “We have just talked about that last week, Lucius! And you did not look as disgusted back when we were discussing it!”

“That was because we were talking about infertile women using it, Narcissa,” their father snapped back.

“Only after we talked about men using it,” Mrs. Malfoy said. “That is not the reason—and I know you are smarter to just hate blindly and idiotically like the Parkinsons, Lucius! So what?”

“You really want to know Narcissa? Fine! It is because of Black! Black and his husband of his! I do not like that they have so much influence—so much sway over our sons' lives!” Mr. Malfoy yelled. “They are our sons! My sons! I should be the one who they turn to with important questions, not them! They should turn to me but time and time again I am left out of the loop and am forced to learn after the fact!”

Mrs. Malfoy frowned, “Then you should have put in more effort in being open with our sons,” she said. “As their father, their happiness and comfort should be your priority as it is with mine! But time and time again, Lucius, I’ve seen you’ve put them second to your job. You don’t pick them up at the station, I do. You don’t greet them or give them money to go to Diagon Alley, I do. I am not saying you don’t love them, Lucius, I know you do, and I hope the boys know as well, but you need to show it, Lucius! This right here, your sneering and always judging—that is not love at all!”

Mr. Malfoy balked at Mrs. Malfoy. He frowned and fell to his seat, looking completely lost. Draco and Mrs. Malfoy kept holding Harry, Mrs. Malfoy reaching out to hold Draco as well. Mr. Malfoy looked up at the three of them, and Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for his father. He wanted to hug him but was afraid of how he would react. “Is this true?” Mr. Malfoy whispered.

Both Harry and Draco nodded. “When I was trying to deal with my… issue,” Draco whispered, “I had you in my head, yelling at me. Calling me names. Calling me useless.”

“Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said weakly, “I would never…” he frowned and for the first time in their lives, Draco and Harry saw their father cry. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Boys, I’m sorry for making you think that I did not love you, that I was unapproachable for you. I promise I’ll be more open-minded; I’ll try to understand more. Just please, never think that I would never love you.”

“Okay dad,” Harry nodded softly.

“Yes, father,” Draco said softly. They glanced at each other and Harry said awkwardly, “So… are you okay? With me and—and Blaise?”

“If you are to date anyone, then I suppose you can do much worse than Zabini,” Mr. Malfoy sighed. “At least it is not Flint. Or worse, Higgs. So yes, I am alright with you and Mr. Zabini dating.”

Harry grinned at Mr. Malfoy and squeezed Draco’s hand. Draco took a breath and said, “I have something I need to tell you two too, but it’s a bit more complicated than being gay.” Mr. Malfoy let out a long sigh and Mrs. Malfoy looked at him concerned.

“Alright, let’s hear it,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“I’m not a boy,” Draco said. “Not fully anyway—I am one now, but there are times when I’m a girl. I’m genderfluid, meaning that I move between male and female, using the pronouns as they feel right to me. That was why I heard your voice, father. I kept trying on girl clothes and when I feel pretty, I kept hearing your voice screaming at me. Right now, I feel like a boy, but I don’t know how long my modes last. I’ve been a boy for a while, but just last week I felt like a girl. And uhh, one last thing, I’m also dating Ron Weasley.” Draco squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his father to react.

Harry squeezed his hand and pulled Draco into a hug as he too waited. Mrs. Malfoy looked at them, confused, while Mr. Malfoy just stared at Draco. The silence was longer and more awkward than when Harry came out. Mrs. Malfoy looked completely confused, as though she did not understand but trying. Mr. Malfoy, however, finally sighed and said, “Really Draco? A Weasley?”

Draco’s eyes snapped open. “What?” He breathed. “That’s –father, that is what you’re focusing on?”

“I told you that I am trying to be more open-minded,” Mr. Malfoy said. “And I assume that it is Lupin who told you about these modes?”

“Y-Yeah, he, Harry, and Blaise helped me talk out my feelings,” Draco nodded.

“Then I will do my best to get used to these changes. Harry dating a respectful boy like Blaise Zabini, that is easy to get used to, as are your modes, you will simply have to make it obvious with what mood you are in,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“Uhh, when I’m feeling more like a girl, I dress in skirts and dresses… and Uncle Remus promised to teach me a spell that gives me temporary breasts so I can feel more like me,” Draco said.

“Good enough,” Mr. Malfoy said, “Although I guess I’ll have to suffer Lupin teaching you this spell for your happiness. However, Draco, Weasley? Really?”

“Y-Yes, Weasley,” Draco said, standing a little taller, more confident. “We’ve dated almost as long as Harry and Blaise.” Mr. Malfoy stared at Draco judgingly, before realizing what he was doing and relaxed his expression a little. “That boy is not right for you, Draco.”

“I’ve already taught him table manners in the first two weeks of dating him,” Draco said. “If there are any behaviors that you find unacceptable for some way, Ron and I can find a way around that.”

Mr. Malfoy was silent. Mrs. Malfoy, however, said, “I still don’t understand these modes you are talking about Draco, but I agree with your father on this, Weasley is not a good boy for you, especially considering his family.”

“However,” Mr. Malfoy said, “I suppose I can be convinced if the two of you are… committed to each other. Before you graduate, I expect you to bring him here, Draco, so I can personally interview him. As I have said before, I know that Blaise Zabini is in good standing, but Weasley, Draco? You’ll need to convince your mother and me on that.”

Draco and Harry stared at their father for a second before grinning. Tears happily fell from Draco’s eyes as he lunged at his father, hugging him tightly, “Thank you father!” he said. Mr. Malfoy stiffened awkwardly before patting his son. Harry joined in, smiling just as widely, Mrs. Malfoy encompassing them all with her arms.

“Yes, yes, this is all nice, however boys, get off of me this instant!” Mr. Malfoy complained, “I will allow you to wrinkle my clothes!” Harry and Draco just laughed and gave their father a final hug before stepping away. Draco took their mother to the side to explain his gender identity more thoroughly, leaving Harry to sit next to his father.

“Dad?”

“Yes Harry, what is it? Please tell me you do not have another announcement,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“No,” Harry hummed, “just that I love you.”

“Yes, well… the feeling is mutual, Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said. Harry just nodded, and continued, “I’m glad I’ve bumped into you when I was four.”

“Me too Harry, me too,” Mr. Malfoy said, and he patted Harry’s shoulder. “Now, I think we both should start preparing for later this evening. It seems Narcissa and I will have a very interesting conversation with Mrs. Zabini and her son.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry grinned, and before Mr. Malfoy could complain, he gave his father one last hug.

THE END


End file.
